High Heels confidence
The confidence that can come from wearing high heels is a potential minefield dividing the opinion of feminists everywhere. Sometimes, all you can do is accept the complexities of a seemingly insignificant subject and take a personal stance. And you don’t have to feel pinned down.
I have a polygamous affair with shoes. Let’s rephrase that: I have a deep, passionate, dysfunctional relationship with shoes. Both my shoes and myself have very high standards, and I often find myself broken down by their demands – whether they’re high heels or flats. So I’ve decided to lay down some boundaries.
Considering I’m 23 years old, I’m at a point in my life where I’m desperate to come to an understanding of what I want. I have ideas, I experiment with trends and obscure inspiration. Personal style constantly evolves, and so does my frustration with society’s ideals clashing with my own. Granted, I have better things to invest my time in than worrying about an inner lookbook. But personal appearance is important to everyone, no matter what level of effort you desire to put into it. I would love to be able to express femininity without elevation, but being that I’m vertically challenged, my dear Timberlands rebel against my confidence. Not to mention, flat shoes cause me as much pain as heels. I’ve recently become fascinated with channeling my inner diva. Even so, heels and I are having a tempestuous relationship, giving my feet and my eclectic closet a storm of heartbreak. I must ask: can aesthetics really outweigh your concerns of physical pain?
I believe my tastes are quite complex. I stroll around a pair of size 5 feet, with extremely high arches and a disdain for slowing down my stride. I want to wear more heels, because they make me feel my age. I feel less obligated to care about what others think. But what’s the point, if my arches cheat on my pumps and I end up rocking orthopedic shoes by the time I’m 45? Granted, that depends on how long you wear these shoes, but really? Will you forever mention the fact that I look 14 if I don’t wear them? Looking like you haven’t aged is one thing – feeling like your style doesn’t reflect maturity is another. I’m very intelligent, progressive, and constantly craving self-improvement. But that matters only when you need it to and for me, it matters a lot.
This is not a simple superficial dilemma. I couldn’t care less about what experts say break up my proportions or flatter my skin tone. For me it’s a consideration of my confidence, despite any glossy magazine or feminist opposition. And it’s definitely not about impressing anyone of romantic interest. So, what am I doing about it? Taking care of myself first, and then choosing my battles. Doing so forces me to really consider anything I invest in, beyond a stupid piece of footwear. I remind myself that I can’t rely on anyone else but myself when it comes to self affirmation. Nothing will ever feel absolutely perfect. However, it doesn’t hurt (too much) to try. For now, my shoes understand my open relationship, so it’ll be awhile before I invest in that imaginary wedding ring to any pair of shoes.