I don't begrudge any woman the right to make their own choices about what they wear, and if something makes you feel sexy, more power to you. I don't think the power is false because society clearly privileges it. If you feel sexy in heels, it's because you are sexy (however we weigh that). My beef is not with womankind, but with the culture that initially associated this footwear with female attractiveness.
Dude. On the scale of female attractiveness, footwear is a distant fifth at best. At BEST!
Ha ha — okay. What comes first?
Vying for one and two: face and figure. Three: hair. Four: sense of humor/wit. Five: a willingness to coddle and tolerate men's annoying behaviors. Six: a willingness to have sex with men.
Seven: a willingness to be ignored and defamed after having had sex with men. (On second thought, footwear ain't cracking the top ten, buddy.)
That's fucked-up, too. So then why ever wear heels, if they're totally unimportant to feeling attractive and they make it harder to get around?
For the same reason I wear lipstick. Want another list? One: because I can. Two: because it's fun to play with my appearance.
Lipstick doesn't make it hard to talk or eat or move.
Lipstick makes your hair stick to your face, gets on your teeth, and leaves stains on glasses. It's WAY more annoying than heels.
Really? Maybe I should be tackling lipstick next.
Three: because, yes, it makes me feel prettier to be adorned and to spend time preening. Also, you really need to understand something very important: heels are NOT inherently uncomfortable. Badly designed heels are. I have gloriously comfy heels.
Well, you may have just gotten used to wearing the things, no?
Yeah... as rarely as possible.
Imagine my surprise. My boyfriend wears them all the time, even on planes. It looks so constricting and uncomfortable to me. He's really comfortable, however. The suit is immobilizing to you and to me because we don't wear them.
Yeah — I don't wear them, and I resent it when I'm obliged to wear them, while simultaneously feeling a little kick out of feeling conventionally attractive for a rare day. It's a very conflicted thing, and I think heels are more so.
What's a conflict for you is just an accessory to me. I put holes in my ears when I was twelve, when my strict father finally allowed me to do it. I put a lot more holes in my ears by the time I was fifteen. I defiled my body, violently and with sharp pokey things. What do you have to say about that?
Because it doesn't seem fair.
Aw, wubby wubby. Come and put your head on my shoulder.
If you can reach. You'll have to stand on your tippy-toes as I am very tall. 5'10" before heels. I like to tower around 6'2".
Look, I'd never begrudge you the right to do whatever you want with your body. But when you look at the totality of women's fashion, there's a lot that's problematic.
If you could rule the world, what would you have me wearing?
In a totally beautiful turn of debate, you select the one garment I find utterly impossible to wear. Thank you.
I try! You could have a sundress. I'd have a sarong — and a higher sperm count. Paradise.
I would be very happy in a sundress. (In the winter, of course, I call it a snowdress.) It's not that I'm so evolved that I'm immune to societal ideas about beauty. (Let's not talk about dieting.) It's that footwear is not a debate. Hair, on the other hand...
Well, I think it IS a debate, and that you're someone who's able to move on a spectrum of convenience without feeling too impeded by it.
I would agree with that. I'd also suggest that every woman I know would agree with that. And I know a lot of women.
I won't pretend I've taken a poll, but my mom and the coworker who's sitting right next to me have real problems with heels.
Then why do they wear them?
They usually don't. And when they do, they resent feeling like they have to.
I have a real problem with foundation. So many women swear by it. I don't use it.
Speaking as a man: I'm not really sure what that is. Again, I'd never deny your right or ability to make your own choices. I'd just suggest that the options themselves are strange.
Aw sweetheart, they're just the options we happen to live with at this moment in history. At other times, it was arsenic on the face to make it pale, or tight corsets or impossibly wide skirts. Immigrants who came to this country in the early 1900s lived ten to a room and had no clean toilets. You see how quickly the argument breaks down?
I don't. My argument is simply this: it's fucked-up.
I think you are a gentle flower.
I think I am a fierce warrior.
Yes, you're on to something. In any case, it's time for them to wheel me back to my nursing home, where I can continue shaking my fist out the window at the evils of the world.
I am not handing your ass to you, as Jack might have suggested. But I think someone else needs to rub your bottom.
I'm game. Any final thoughts?
Yes. You would love my coral snakeskin heels.
Someday you'll have to show me!
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