This is yet another episode in the endless story of how long it is taking me to unpack after my move, ah, seventeen months ago.

Last night I rescued yet another couple of boxes dumped by my movers in the black hole (I told them to do that, not their fault) last January, and sat down to discover what might be inside. (This is such fun, to dig up stuff you haven't seen for two years, although that raises, of course, the question of why you still bother to have it at all. Please don't interrupt me with logic.)

And there were all my old shoes, the ones I hardly ever wear but have just never been able to face getting rid of. One pair -- black suede, with fairly low but very sexy heels -- I would still wear ... if I ever had to go any place sexy, which is not looking likely in the short term.

But the others are such museum pieces. I should phone Mrs Bata.

All these years, I have saved two pairs of spikes, one pair bought in 1971, I think, and the other probably early eighties. I sat there laughing at them last night -- at one point, I took out a tape measure, and the heels of both clock in at 4 1/4 inches.

But then, bit by bit, they kind of seduced me. I put on the older pair, my very favourites, which I actually did wear quite a bit back in the seventies. The heels are very narrow but stacked wood (probably getting ready to separate); the foot and ankle straps are natural tooled leather, a bit cow-girlish, an effect reinforced by the raised soles, which are edge-stitched. Just call me Elton John, eh?

So I clomped around a bit in them. Were the kitties freaked or what?

I actually could walk in them, although I'm not sure I'd try that any more on pavement. It gave me a bit of a pang to remember that I once ran up and down subway stairs in these things.

And then I put on the other pair, a silvery grey pair that I think I only ever wore twice, very pretty, scalloped edges on the footstraps, but when did I ever wear grey?

By then the kitties were all cowering in the corners. They don't usually communicate with one another, but I could tell what those glances they were exchanging meant.

Well, it was quite fun, and I'm still not going to toss these artifacts, although God knows I'm never likely to wear them again either. It has been so long since they've been in touch with human skin that the leather has become quite brittle -- I'm sure those thin straps would snap after not much strain on them.

So anyway: that's my triviality for the day, and the true story of why I went back to my German sandals today (the relief!). There are some other nondescript two-inchers that I might toss, but I think I shall hang on to the bitchy spectaculars.

[ 07 July 2005: Message edited by: skdadl ]

I'm short, and have had my share of frustration with that (never saw a live parade; was always last served at the ice-cream stand - because they let little kids slide to the front, but not little adults), but never managed anything higher than 2" heels... and walked like a Shetland pony in those (no flamenco dancer was lost in me!). Had switched to serviceable leather flats (from Bata, next door to Honest Ed's; one pair every second fall, c. $25) by '73; to joggers and moccassins by '95.

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Originally posted by nonesuch:
Gosh, you musta been a hot babe!

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I don't think I would wear high heels anyway but I don't wear the kind of clothes that high heels would look good with -- no little black dresses or pin-stripe business suits. In the summer I wear long dresses with sandals. In the winter, I wear black trousers and flow-y silky tops. High heels just wouldn't look right.

(Anchoress and I just used exactly the same words to describe our clothes.)

[ 07 July 2005: Message edited by: Sharon ]

I have no idea how I ever walked in them, and I'd fall off if I tried now :-)

To keep leather supple forever: petroleum jelly. Rub on, let stand 10 minutes, then wipe off, with a soft cloth, about once every six months. We used to do that to protect winter boots against salt. (I just read a thing on WD40, sez it works just as well, but can't say whether it's true, as i stopped wearing leather 15 years ago.)

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Whaddya mean, "musta been"?

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re-edit: -hood, not -ism. Pardon my moran-dom ( -ity).

[ 07 July 2005: Message edited by: nonesuch ]

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Originally posted by nonesuch:
Well, i did hesitate over that, but the German sandal reference tended to reinforce my suspicion that you'd given up hot babe-ism for a new persona; something more ... practical? PC? cuddly? virtuous? intimidating?

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myself, each year i get more and more sensible and practical. my older women friends predicted this would happen to me as i got older, and i'll be a quarter century old next month. i like to cover up more parts of me, and dress in a way that will bring least attention to me. i prefer not to wear heels so i can walk long distances (although i have no trouble riding my bike in them), and i feel heels can't be so great for my back in the long run. i've always liked strappy, classy sandals with high heels - but not shiny ones. i've got a few pairs of shoes with heels, but, after the end of my student days, i don't seem to ever find the occasion to wear them. i wore my black strappy ones once last year. oh, and i love dancing in them, but that thought is making me cringe right now cause i've sprained my ankle, and the very idea hurts.

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Originally posted by ephemeral:
skdadl, i so enjoyed reading your thread. unpacking and remembering things gone by is such a joyous, exciting thing to do, yet it's almost always accompanied by sad feelings of longing for something that may never be part of one's life agan. sigh, always live life to the fullest, and do whatever your heart desires, i say. memories are better than regrets.

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posted by anchoress:
For me that particular feeling is a combination of memory *and* regret, because no only am I recognising that something may never be a part of my life again, but it's acknowledging that I wouldn't want it to be. For me anyway, part of the pain of remembering is realising that honestly I wouldn't want to have a time or situation back again even if I could.

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Here are some examples:

I wouldn't want any of the people in my life who are dead to be alive again. I wouldn't want to be back at my favourite job. I wouldn't want my best friends who moved away to have stayed in Vancouver. I wouldn't want the happiest summer of my life to have continued. I wouldn't want back the wonderful boyfriend whom I didn't appreciate until after I dumped him. I wouldn't want to have kept the dress I didn't realise was my favourite until after it was gone. I wouldn't want to have answered differently when my favourite platonic boyfriend told me he was in love with me. I wouldn't want back the ambition that drove me to do what I did in the music business. I wouldn't want back the relationship I thought would be the last of my life, even though at the time I *fought* tooth and nail to keep it alive.

That kind of stuff.

[ 08 July 2005: Message edited by: Anchoress ]

I have some arthritis in a foot and find it hard to find sexy shoes I can wear - and no, I'm not a running shoe person unless I'm actually running. (i.e. never, but I have had shoes like that for gym exercise). Nonesuch, how on earth do you find non-leather shoes that don't kill your feet?

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...how on earth do you find non-leather shoes that don't kill your feet?

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for me, one word: Merrell. Yep, they're expensive, but if you can get your hands on a pair they will last for years and years. I've only bought their sandals (I think most of the winter gear has animal bits on them) and my feet feel really supported for long walks & bike rides.

[ 08 July 2005: Message edited by: baba yaga ]

Ideally, I'd be wearing hand-crafted shoes in very soft leather with a Cuban heel - or one just a bit higher, more sturdy and serious than a kitten heel, but with that grace, and walking effortly through the streets of the city. We will not think of bombs as in London, but perhaps a panne de courant, walking home effortlessly as people attempt to hail cabs.

Today I am sort of a follower of Joy MacPhail in that my favourite pairs of shoes are a two pairs of Dayton boots, on Western, the other lace. Both are incredibly durable and while they do have a heel, it's functional and doesn't leave me feeling sore in the lower back.

I find the whole idea of "ladies shoes" to be kind of ridiculous, and it's especially apparent for women who are tall, or large, or who work on their feet.

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Originally posted by skdadl:

But then, bit by bit, they kind of seduced me. I put on the older pair, my very favourites, which I actually did wear quite a bit back in the seventies. The heels are very narrow but stacked wood (probably getting ready to separate); the foot and ankle straps are natural tooled leather, a bit cow-girlish, an effect reinforced by the raised soles, which are edge-stitched. Just call me Elton John, eh?

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Originally posted by kurichina:
I've never had a problem with high heels. What I do have a problem with is skinny heels: stiletto styles or kitten heels. I can wear chunky heels of any height comfortably, but once the end is pointy, I feel very odd. Still, I usually wear at least a bit of a heel, as I have rather muscular legs and I think it suits them to be in heels.

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What I really hate is pointy toed shoes! I think they make the feet look so clown-like and long. I don't imagine they're comfortable but I can't know for sure because I'd never wear them to find out.

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Originally posted by skdadl:
I should phone Mrs Bata.

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You should! I imagine they're still collecting shoes of all eras for that museum (which I love, btw).

[ 08 July 2005: Message edited by: kurichina ]

I'm happy with a wide heel, too, but wouldn't be brave enough to go out on the street in my old spikes, for fear of
a)getting them stuck in a drain grating
b)piercing someone else's foot
c)having an undignified stack which may or may not cause injury to body and pride.

What I really don't understand is the trendy fashion now of wearing pointy shoes with ragged bottom flared long jeans. The pants are so long and wide they totally cover the shoe. If I was going to wear shoes I couldn't walk in I would at least want people to see them all the time.

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Originally posted by Melsky:
Another shoe pet peeve of mine is really flimsy shoes. I don't like those shoes I see that are just a heel and sole, with 2 or 3 little spaghetti straps on them. They look like they are going to fall off. I always wonder if the wearers glue the shoes to their feet to keep that from happening.

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One thing I remember from the days when so many women were wearing spikes/stilettos as a matter of course -- we were hell on floors, especially lino but even wood floors (and probably rugs). What were we thinking?

(God, I can't believe I'm typing this stuff. )

Anyway, she was obviously treating that appearance as a sort of coming-out, or a re-emergence, proof that she had survived yet another dorky man and bounced back looking even better than ever.

So her way of choosing to do that was to wear a clingy dress that would have been a slip in MY day and some teeter-totter spikes, and then to walk all the way across the stage in this very odd, stiff posture, her body displayed sideways (so we could see how thin she is) but her face turned full-front to the audience, back rigid, not graceful, and every one of those steps a jolt.

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What I really don't understand is the trendy fashion now of wearing pointy shoes with ragged bottom flared long jeans.

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Because of my age [over 45--blush!] and my career [lawyer] I wear heels a lot, and, frankly, I like them & the way I look when I'm professionally dressed. Maybe because I've worn heels since about age 12 [any others of my age remember just begging mom for your first pair of dress heels & how you felt wearing those shiny black shoes with an inch & a quarter heel?], I still do not have a problem walking in heels [as someone mentioned, grates on the sidewalk are deadly! but shoe makers are happy to charge you to make repairs].

The other thing that prompts my comments is my new significant other. As I mentioned elswhere on this board, I divorced some years ago & went a long, long, long time without a lover in my life. Now I am in a wonderful, loving, empowering relationship with another woman. [Frankly, I don't know if I'm a lesbian or bisexual or questioning & exploring--I really don't give a d--m!] She makes me happy. We communicate. We share our lives on many levels. And she relocated to be near me. No one has ever loved me as she loves me! Are we happy? Absolutely!

I can think of two babblers especially, andrean and vickyinottawa, who have taught us to say, "No way those are stereotypes! That is FABULOUS!" Whatever makes you feel that you are clicking from the nerves (and especially if you are doing that in unison with someone else) -- that is FABULOUS!

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I should phone Mrs Bata.

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Thread drift:

I used to work in the Bata building at Eglinton and DVP, and actually met Mr. and Mrs Bata quite a few times.

To passersby, it seems there is a lot of land surrounding that building. However there were basements and sub-basements that were filled with her shoe collection prior to the Museum being built. It was pretty cool being able to pick up a pair of Elton John boots, or antique Chinese slippers. They were just there on racks.

As well, there were so many it basements it felt like I was going spelunking.

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Originally posted by skdadl:

But, man, belva: you must have tough ankles.

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Originally posted by Anchoress:
Wow belva what an awesome post! Woo Hoo to happiness!

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Many years later, after about 15 years of wearing flat shoes almost all the time, I bought myself a pair of sexy boots this winter.
I can still walk in high heels.

But I'm feeling the pain of it these days

I still have a number of pairs of shoes that I have refused to throw out (s.o.: "Why don't you get rid of those? I've never seen you wear them).

I'm saving them for the day when a project in my mind gels.
I want to take pictures of the shoes, and print them on satin with pithy saucy sayings to match each pair of shoes (royal blue court shoes; stiletto snakeskins; clear acrylic and rhinestones) and make pillows.

I actually do own those shoes, or ones quite a bit like them, and my talented friend recreated them for my birthday.

My other favourite heels are black, with five inch heels and two inches of platform and the skinniest of straps holding me onto them. Alas, since I sprained my ankle last fall (while wearing flip flops, to add insult to injury!), I fear that I may never be able to wear them again.

But on to shoes. I guess from a strictly feminist perspective, high heels might be politically incorrect; they inhibit mobility, and sacrifice health and safety for the sake of fashion.

But on the other hand, women who have mastered grace while wearing heals-- not runway vamping grace, but a matter of fact kind of grace-- send (to me at least) a signal of power and confidence.

I've seen fetish shoes that are unwearable. Foot long heels. Or six and seven inch heels that are technically wearable, but must be murder on the toes. The idea here though is not to spend too much time upright in the shoes.

A custom leather/fetish supply guy here in London says the foam or gell ball of foot pads work well to alleviate foot pain from high heels. I don't know if he comes by that first hand. I suspect it comes from annectdotes from his male and female customers.

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I'm saving them for the day when a project in my mind gels.
I want to take pictures of the shoes, and print them on satin with pithy saucy sayings to match each pair of shoes (royal blue court shoes; stiletto snakeskins; clear acrylic and rhinestones) and make pillows.

That will give me a more comfortable way to remember them.

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Digiteyes, what a groovy idea. Can you be hired?

For Suzette's sake, I have taken a few pictures of the cowgirl shoes, and I will upload them sometime later today.

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Originally posted by skdadl:
For Suzette's sake, I have taken a few pictures of the cowgirl shoes, and I will upload them sometime later today.

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Originally posted by belva:
I hope others find the joy I've found in the last six months.

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But I have obviously not figured out this bricklefritz camera yet, so this is gonna be fuzzy.

I am a poor workwoman who is blaming her tools.

*off to measure highest heels in shoe closet*

3.5 inches, and there's another pair that's almost the same. how tall did you say yours were again?

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Originally posted by andrean:
My other favourite heels are black, with five inch heels and two inches of platform and the skinniest of straps holding me onto them. Alas, since I sprained my ankle last fall (while wearing flip flops, to add insult to injury!), I fear that I may never be able to wear them again.

Belva, I'm happy to learn of your new happiness. I think femmes are hot and though my beloved generally doesn't, I'm fortunate that she happens to think that this particular one is okay.

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Wearing flip-flops? There is no justice, my friend!

Many thanks to you, to nonesuch & to emphemeral (as well as to the others who posted such thoughtful & loving comments) for the very kind wishes. I shared them with my dearest today & she expressed her thanks & deep appreciation. Then she commented that it's too bad we don't live in Canada so that we could have state recognition of our love! I bubbled with joy at the unspoken thought!

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Originally posted by skdadl:
But I have obviously not figured out this bricklefritz camera yet, so this is gonna be fuzzy.

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(Actually, you may have to get the licence somewhere else, but I believe it can all be done in one day.)

ephemeral, the colour isn't far off, but everything in that room is that colour -- I guess that was mistake one. They're just a natural tan, very cowgirlish. Sad that you can't see the top-stitching. (Grrr.)

I tried the flash, but that was worse -- bad glare.

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Originally posted by skdadl:

Digiteyes, what a groovy idea. Can you be hired?

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Hope you don't mind, photo tweaking is a bit of a hobby.

I'm supposed to know, actually, or at least I have been given a couple of seminars by my adviser, but I haven't been practising for a while, so I've forgotten even the little I knew. Use it or lose it, eh?

Does "dicking about" constitute an answer?

It's done in Photoshop; adjusted the levels to bring up the light and depth; ran the blur brush over the background to bring the shoes forward a little and cut out the "busyness" back there; ran the dodge tool over the foreground; burn tool over the shoes a little to give some depth and "weight"; brought up the blue level a bit (in "variations") to tone down the yellowness that came from lightening it. Could have done with a bit less yellow still, now I look at it.

I have bad feet. I can't wear even a sportsy kind of sandal for more than half a day without my feet aching for the support of my sneakers and orthodics. Also, I like to run and jump around even at the most inappropriate times, and inevitably this happens during the kind of evening that one never expects to find themselves running. Whenever I wear a dress I find myself halfway through the night wishing I could sit in an 'unladylike' fashion or hop on my bike without showing all to the world (high heels and fancy dresses have always been in the same category for me).

As a teenager I used to on occasion strap myself into the impractical shoes or the restricting dress because I was supposed to. I never really enjoyed it, but I was either made to feel or flat out told that it was necessary. Gradually, I began doing it less and less and now, I have a couple funky pairs of dressy flats and some dresses I like to wear over jeans...but that's about it. And the amazing thing is I feel more like me and so much sexier and confident in this attire than I ever did before.

I went through a militant period after this discovery where I quite blindly believed that all women wearing heels and fancy dresses must somewhere deep down feel as shackled as I did. I think I pretty much believed that anyone putting themselves into mobility hindering attire was in some way oppressed.