I love the look of a hot pair of heels. Be damned if I can walk in them, though.
I suppose the irony of the fact I can’t walk in heels is my years and years of dance lessons and competitive dance.
I danced in “Character Shoes” which were high-heels with straps. I did kick lines, and Can-can, pirouettes et all and never a problem walking in them.
I also took 4 years of Pointe. You’d think with the rigorious routines you subject your feet to in Pointe, walking in heels would be a breeze. No dice for Joey.
Last weekend when my In Laws were here my Mother in Law bought me a hot little pair of sandles (see below)
I love them, but as with any pair of heels, I have to bring a back up pair of flats when the pain gets to much.
I blister easily. What can I say.
I wore them to Gibby’s and all the walking around we did by the Old Port, but on Sunday when we went to Church – I couldn’t even keep them on for the service. I slid them under the pew in front of me. I hope they weren’t ‘pew’ themselves.
We went to Tim Horton’s for lunch and onto Ste Anne De Bellevue to walk along the boardwalk, needless to say, on came the flats.
The day after P&K’s wedding we all know about the high heel boot fiasco, I sprained my ankle really badly (infact i’m still in a bit of a pain from it) – after my tumble, on came the flats.
For P&K’s wedding, I bought a great pointy pair of heels, and a back up pair of flats that looked the same. During the ceremony I had to walk up the little staircase, and I knew I didn’t want to chance fate – on came the flats.
Then walking back to the car between the service and reception, well, I couldn’t keep up with everyone in my heels. On came the flats.
Then there was the dancing. I couldn’t be expected to give my heart out to the Village People’s YMCA in heels, could I? On came the flats.
Even at my own wedding, on came the flats. I switched to a silvery pair of flip flops from my heels just after the ceremony and pictures.
Colin can always tell when I’m uncomfortable in shoes, he says I go from having my shoulders back and standing tall and confident to a hunched over waddling penguin with piegon feet.
Perhaps I’m only destined to enjoy LOOKING at fabulous heels, and never wearing them.
Sigh. . . . . .