Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Who Run the World? GIRLS. . . Likely in Heels. . .
Like many people in the world I am deeply troubled and stumped by many a thing. . . Some things that deeply trouble me are quite serious: human trafficking, hunger, poverty, child pornography, basic mistreatment of humans and some things that deeply stump me are not of such a serious matter: why can't I eat chocolate and LOSE weight? Why are hips and thighs and curves so looked down upon? And WHY are stilettos so damn sexy but hurt so baaad?!
People- I am not tall in stature, some may even dare to call me short, so you would think I would be of the opinion that heels are the end all, be all of shoe heaven. . . Wrong.
I own heels. . . three pairs. . . three pairs of leg slimming, calf cramp inducing, high heeled stilettos. And they are hot: one pair is a black, patent leather number, one pair is black and brown leather peep toed lovelies, and one pair is deep, red velvet. They are delicious, people! And there is a very high chance that I can count the total minutes they have each been worn by my feet on one hand.
Here are a few things you should know about me to understand the full irony of this situation: I am a girly girl. I was the Barbie queen growing up- I had the hot pink limo, the Barbie dream house, and home made Barbie clothes from my precious, Aunt Martha. I also had, and still have, an American Girl doll; Samantha, and her bed and a "closet" of her clothes. I love purses, clothes, and shopping. . . I also adore shoes. If you were to ask my mother about my relationship with shoes she would likely scoff in disgust, roll her eyes, and proceed to tell you about how the amount of shoes I have is insurmountable to any other female country wide (Clearly the woman has never watched any of the Real Housewives of any city.) So, yeah, I am a girly kind of girl. . . I enjoy pink, all day shopping trips, and being spoiled. . . Just don't buy me pink heels, take me on shopping trips for heels, or spoil me with heels.
Let me clarify this post by saying that on the list of things I greatly desire there is the wish that I maintained the ability to enjoy wearing heels. I know that girls look good in heels. . . and I am already short, therefore, heels would do a great deal to enhance any look. . . So I truly do want to wear heels. . . the pain just takes over. Heels are not comfortable, no matter how sexy one may look in them.
I have a high school friend who towers over me in a great, statuesque, model body and she rocks heels- and she forever makes me jealous of how glamorous she always looks. I also have a cousin from Colorado who is a skier, yoga instructor, and all around sexified lean, mean, body of muscle. . . and she wears heels, too. . . and she's forever wearing short little dress numbers with heels that essentially put my eyes on the level of her ample bosom. . . and it makes me want to wear heels with such a fevered desperation, but then I have nightmare-ish foreshadowing moments in which I exit a car, thinking I am unbelievably irresistible to everyone in sight, only to hit the pavement, not with my slinky, sexy heels, but my knees, and perhaps my hands, in preventative measures of saving my teeth. And any great desire to wear heels dissipates into the night air, not dissimilar to the way my cries of pain would, had I given into this great notion in the first place.
I, Stephi Duff, will likely forever be the short girl who should wear heels, but doesn't, or if I do, always have a pair of flats in my purse. I will likely forever be the girl who, when shopping, will see a stunning, breathtaking pair of heels and then emit a small cry of "oh!" but will ultimately pass them by, because- really, who am I kidding? I will likely forever be the girl who watches, with admiration and slight jealousy, the girls of all shapes and sizes that kick ass in heels miles high. I will likely forever be the girl who shakes her head and thinks to herself, "Work IT, sister!" when I see a girl in heels. And I, Stephi Duff, will likely forever be the girl that will always wear a pair of heels on New Years Eve, and inevitably be the one running like a 'one leg short' cat behind her girlfriends yelling, "GUYS! SLOW DOWN! I have heels on!' (You've been warned, lovies. . . now you know what to look out for this coming weekend.)
So, ladies of the world, rockin' their stilettos and getting the attention of all the guys: geetttttt iiiiiittttt!!!! While you're out on the dance floor shaking your money makers in heels, I'll be the girl on the other side of the dance floor wearing flats. . . or better yet, Chuck Taylors. . . and eventually that will catch a guy's attention, too.