The Curse of the Stiletto

A note from SSG:

Lys of Just Anotha Gal (to visit her site, click here) is one of my favorite bloggers.  Hello?  Her little icon thingie is a lemon drop.  Need I say more?  Back when I used to be a Salon Selective using, hair teasing, high top Reebok wearing San Diegan in the 80's, I would frequently watch a certain dance show.  It MIGHT have had the word "dance" in the title right next to the word "party" and maybe our country's acronym right after that.  I'm just saying.  The girls were so stylish.  The guys were so cute.  And EVERYONE could dance.  At SSG's junior high school, dancing looked like one row of guys facing one row of girls and they would all move their feet side to side.  Never did I think, in all of my Aqua Net dreams, that I'd get to know one of the dancers.  But Lys is one of those girls who I came upon serendipitously.  She may think it's the shoes that make her hot, but I don't think so.  She's got that certain something I think the French call je ne sais quoi.  

(And P.S?  If you want to check out some AWESOME photos of that era, check this out.)

First of all, can I say how excited I am to do my first guest blog--ever!!!  Probably will be my last as I'll be cursed to the far isle for bad grammar, Lys-isms or some mess but thanks to SSG who is whisking away to the far off land of all things Paris.  I'm thrilled to be posting in a new spot.

Ok, let me preface this post with the understanding that 99% of the time you will see me rockin' a heel.  My love affair with all things high and mighty started in the 9th grade.  I would run into my mother's closet and put on her stilettos while she was at work.  She had this gorgeous pair of black satin pumps with a starburst of rhinestones on the side that I adored (and, in later years, "borrowed" during the show years.  Hey--I was a rhinestone gal, it was 1988.  Shoot.  Me.)

During my rebellious teen years, I just had to have this pair of iridescent pumps that Madonna wore in the movie "Who's That Girl."  I wore the hell out of those shoes.  These iridescent pumps were the epitome of all things 80's.  That catapulted me into the 2.5" heel range, quite the change over my normal school fare.  See, I attended a Catholic high school who was quite "lenient" when it came to all things shoes as they figured we had to deal with the ramifications, namely twisted ankles, falling on our butts, sore feet by the end of the day, etc.  We won't discuss the heinous nightmare inducing green plaid skirt I had to wear.  The boys didn't care about the shoe policy except for the fact that they could not wear sneakers but the girls, oh we could get away with a lot (and did).  The girls only thought about one thing--impressing the upper classmen (and boy did we, not)!

During my latter teen years, the heels got higher.  My friends often were teased about how our heels were not high enough and since I tend to have a bit of a height complex (I'm 5'5 but thought I was 5'1), I gladly complied.  However, I did briefly flirt with the flats and leggings fad for a bit in the late 80's/early 90's but then it was back to the stiletto--namely a 3.75" granny boot that had the boys come runnin' to the yard.  I could wear those bad boys with ANYTHING and it was like watching a cartoon.  That was until I slid down a hill in the ice in front of my crush at a nightclub I worked at.  That batch of ice capades tragically resulted in a broken heel and a hunt for a new pair.  Which I found.  Which I wore.  However, I never wore those Boys Come Runnin' boots on the icy hill of Annie's EVER again.

When I was with my ex-fiancee, he wasn't so fond of my "hookah" heels and I was told to "behave" (*snort* as if)!  The heels were retired out of his sight, but not out of my mind.  I would wear them on girls nights out and they were my weapons of destruction.  After the finacee years, I would wear heels and such, but not as high as I would have liked.  Then, after I was moving on from a non-relationship, I was walking past a Steve Madden one day and I remember it clear as day.  I encountered a pair of heels that had me at hello--the Steve Madden Pawla Peeptoe Platform.  They looked like Loubous.  The were crazy comfy and, lo and behold, the boys all came running to the yard.  Again.  Nirvana!  And I realized a bonus to breakups/non-breakups.  Shoe shopping.  There is nothing like slipping on a pair of shoes that you know (and everyone else knows) are the hotness.

And so began my journey of higher heights of stilettos and I'm happy to say I can rock a 4" heel like there is no tomorrow.  Well that is, unless I'm in Philadelphia and walking down Market Street.  That results in quite a bit of clumsy antics.  We won't even talk about cobblestone streets.  Then I channel my inner SSG and look for a charming pair of flats.