Seriously. High heels are the more precarious of footwear selection if your intended persona should exude confidence. Doubly so if you’re a taller, fuller physique.
Because you’re attempting to navigate an uneven, spinning (if constant) terrain on what boils down to sticks attached to a narrowing funnel at an angle that cannot help but create a medieval torture device better described as “Toe Vices”.
And today I managed to wander around my work, all day, without tripping or generally looking more of an idiot than normal in the eyes of high schoolers. Which I would’ve chalked up on the success side, even if I hadn’t had to run 2 errands on the way home. It is the first that decisively placed me back into “Master of the Toe Vices” list.
I’m 5’7″ – 5’8″ (ish) standing barefoot and close enough to the “standard” weight to go along with that as I really care to be. So my 3″(ish) heels are excessive, but adorable, attire that I generally avoid. Particularly because I usually end up walking in a way reminiscent of Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas (after she gets up from throwing herself out the window), but especially if I will have to walk with confidence in places that I already stand out. Say the local panaderia or Fry’s Electronics.
Well, today my first errand took me into Fry’s on the hunt for a new laptop charger (later picked up at home on my Windows Phone). Because Fry’s is the local, giant, warehouse store for all the pieces that one might need to build a laptop from scratch. Or a security system for a drug house. Or the next Mars Rover for NASA.
Basically, it’s not a place that a girl is expected to wander through with any confidence, much less wearing one of the hallmarks of “girl” clothing. But I managed to walk through the store like I knew what I was doing , and felt successful simply because no one talked to me.
But I think the real reason why no one talked to me is because I appeared not lost.
There is a fine art to looking like you could use some help and appearing like you know what you’re doing. I generally act like I know what I’m doing because most everyone makes it up as they go along any way. This helps me get to do things I might not technically be allowed to do (say trek up the side of NORAD for a stretch and not get arrested) or just gives me the time to figure out the tiny detail I’m uncertain about.
Once you figure out how to convince everyone else you know what you’re doing, life becomes a little easier, a little less stressful, and a little more entertaining. Because laughter is a big part of looking like you know what you’re doing. If you’re confident enough to laugh, you must really be allowed to walk through that barrier. It’s a little like Douglas Adams’ description of flying.
And then it becomes as easy as eating a cookie to walk through the doors of any place, socially expected or not, in the unstable, archaic torture devices (tenuously called footwear) of high heels without the fear of falling on your face. Because even if you do, there’s always the fall to laugh at.