High heels

I used to live on 5-inch heels, carefully stepping on my toes throughout so as to avoid loss of heel caps between the cobbles of Sofia streets.   High heels are addictive, and after wearing them for a while, you feel naked when you don’t.  I wear them sparingly nowadays, but on Sunday I decided to dress up and ditch the sneakers for a pair of high-heel sandals.  The experience was illuminating.  The good news is that rusty high-heel skills can be polished and refurbished.  But in the process, be ready for prepared for awkward conflicts of skills.

Being a new convert to the Bar Method, I was determined to keep the Bar Method stance as I walked on my high heels.  It was easy to do so – high heels naturally force your hips forward, as any of you boys will discover if you try to walk on your toes and keep your torso straight.  The combination, however, was novel, so I kept alternating between the beautiful high-heel walk Bar-Method style and the more familiar tiptoeing.  You know when you begin to tiptoe – your gait becomes choppy and feels weird.  But one should not rely solely on feeling, because at times I was not even aware I tiptoed until my lower back hurt or a shop window presented itself. 

And then, just as I thought I’d mastered the BM high-heel walk, I fell.  There was a spill in the Safeway fruit section which I, chin high, didn’t see.  Now, I know how to avoid spills while tiptoeing, but I was not tiptoeing at that moment.  In fact, I was feeling so comfortable that I forgot I was on high heels.  And because spills don’t bother me if I am in sneakers, my sneakers skills were activated.  But I was on high heels, so the left stiletto slid in.  Thud on my left leg and arm, jujitsu style!  A crowd gathered, admiring the wholeness of the cantaloupes I had protected while falling.  (Well, not exactly – they were asking if I was ok, which I was, not counting the bruised hip and arm.)

The best part?  The above analysis of the causes for my fall took place while I was falling.  Lightning fast it was, and very pleasurable.  BTW, I was somewhat sore yesterday, so the only exercise I did was walking to BART and back in sneakers, perfect BM stance.  By evening, all pain was gone.  Ave, Burr, morituri te salutant (jk)!


4 thoughts on “High heels

    1. All – that’s my brilliant friend Annie, an artist and a professional photographer. We used to criss-cross Sofia together, in high heels and supercilious disposition, moaning and groaning over the stupidity of boys and other world wonders. I call her “Anche,” which is a term of endearment, just as “Ralche,” which is what she calls me.

      Anche, it did cross my mind to sue them for inflicting unnecessary pain and suffering to the audience.

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