Saturday, July 26, 2008

Why I wear heels

Antonia Zerbisias asks why we wear heels.

So why do women, who now run companies, wear shoes that they can't run in?


I can run in them actually, in a sort of mincing tripping way. But I don't want to run. I don't like running. It's not fun and it's not dignified. If I ran a company, I would certainly see to it that there's someone to do any necessary running for me. Not being able to run in my shoes is just as much of a problem as not being able to scale an ice cliff in them.

But I'll tell you why I wear them.

Because I like being six feet tall and having every step I take click authoritatively. Because I like asserting my adulthood by wearing things that are grownup. Because I feel kick-ass when I move furniture or carry eight bags of groceries or physically wrestle with the giant printer at work while dressed girly. Because when I was a kid my parents would rarely let me dress girly on the basis that it's impractical, so now I'm making up for lost time and asserting my independence.

But it's mostly because whenever I succeed at looking feminine, it's a victory. My internal gender identity is very femme - the more I think about it, the more I'm surprised by just how femme it is - but my genetics aren't so very. I'm hairy and oozy and smelly with loud bodily functions. I've never been dainty or petite. I walk too fast and say the wrong thing and move clumsily and speak with a harsh voice. I've never been swept off my feet by a lover because I've always been too big and heavy. I learned the truth at seventeen; I'm simply not destined to ever be pretty.

And then, as I entered my 20s, I started to figure out how to make myself pretty. I slowly figured out how to make the makeup work. I slowly figured out how to put together clothes that are actually flattering to my body (part of which is wearing heels) rather than just being funky clothes in and of themselves. I discovered the virtues of underwires. I came up with a trick or two to do with my hair. I got a decent pair of glasses, then a better pair of glasses. And every so often, when the stars and the laundry cycle and my hair's free will all align correctly, I look like a woman! Something that should be just a small pleasure but one I figured would always be denied to me, I now achieve on a regular basis. I totally win!!! And as I strut down the street, heels tapping, hemline swinging, hair bouncing, face perfectly made up, I am declaring victory.

The heels are a part of that. I can wear whatever I want - I have a few pairs of flats and a good pair of athletic shoes and my job has no dress code - but most days walking down the street declaring victory is far more appealing than walking down the street marginally faster and more comfortably.

No comments: