Thursday, August 10, 2006

A Woman and Her Shoes

This article answered a lot of questions I've had for a long time about women and shoes. Like, how many shoes does the average woman have? Exactly how freakish am I? Apparently I'm common (50% of women in the survey have more than 30 pairs of shoes) as opposed to freakish (only 8% have more than 100).

Of course, I'm still a freak, because most of my shoes do not have any "Cinderella" factor. At least a third of my shoes are tennis shoes, and probably half of those are Chuck Taylors. Another third are sensible flats (what my friend calls "sturdy brown shoes") and only a third are heels (most only 1-2 inches).

I do not think that I would EVER let a man CARRY me because I couldn't walk in my shoes. I mean, I just can't imagine letting that happen. Unless I got caught out having to walk a mile or two after a fancy night out due to some kind of public transportation shutdown/hostage situation, I'm generally wearing shoes that don't cripple me.

According to this article, 55% of men have had to carry a woman because her shoes hurt her widdle feet. I want more data. Do the men like this? Does it make them feel like knights in shining armor, or are they just thinking women are kinda stupid? How many times has it happened? Does any man let it happen more than once? Because that's either some serious patience or a disorder. Do they size up a girl's shoes when they ask her out, and if so, do they look for teetery heels or for a girl who can get home from dinner on her own two feet?

Ultimately, I think it would be sexier if the girl wears the tall heels and can still walk (and preferably run or kick your ass) in them. But then again, I never thought foot-binding was sexy, either. What do I know?

I was recently explaining to someone that I used to wear 3-inch heels. I did this partly because I'm short, and partly because my then-husband was tall. But even the comfy Aerosoles hurt eventually, so when I got home I'd take them off while I deactivated the burglar alarm--and not move them. After about four months of tripping over the shoes on his way in the door, the man took one and hurled it at my favorite picture, breaking the glass. He then cried and said that he was a horrible person.

So when I look at a 3" heel, I don't really see a Cinderella-style affirmation of the feminine mystique. I sort of think of them as uncomfortable little homewreckers. It's just me, isn't it? Yeah, I thought so.

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