Kick the habit
Confession: I own an obscene number of shoes. Some are new, some are vintage classics from the 70s when platforms were last in style, none are cheap. I learned from my Mother a long time ago that half the wrinkles a girl gets by the time she's 40 comes from wearing painful shoes.
Oh but I learned the hard way. I still suffer aches in my ankles on rainy days from all the times I did face plants off my red patent wedgies in 1971. On that 1977 night I should have been dancing to celebrate winning a National Newspaper Award, I instead had to lean on my two dates, no thanks to my Kenneth Cole stilettos. I indulged in a pair of Dries Van Noten mint green Maryjanes a few years ago -- almost a week's take home pay -- and wore then once after suffering from numbed toes at an awards dinner.
Lately I find myself gravitating toward Michelle Obama-esque kitten heels, when I can find them that is, Crocs or my runners.
At Christmas, one of my nieces showed up on an icy Montreal day in a pair of killer boots that could impale a horse. I don't know how you can stand in those, let alone walk in them I said. My cousin sneered that I was just jealous ... and old. I just couldn't wear those shoes anymore.
But age has nothing to do with it.
Every year I ask one of my nieces -- or daughters of my friends -- to accompany me to the MuchMusic Video Awards because I think they'll get a kick out of them. I always always always warn them: Wear shoes you can walk/stand in. There's a lot of running up and down stairs -- or at least there used to be when Much was in that building on Queen W.
But do they listen?
They end up crying in pain and usually walking along John Street with me until we can find a cab barefoot.
So anyway, here we are, facing another fashion season and already the spring styles are showing up in some of the shops. Talk about stupidly high heels.
Here's just one example from Prada:
Now, I ask you. Are women shoe crazy? Or just crazy?