High Heels trouble.

There are certain things which a woman is expexted to do exceptionally well. Failure to which, she is viewed as an ‘incomplete woman’. Over the years, I have experienced these things and attempted all. Of the things I should be able to flourish in, none is doable on my side. Pretty sad, yeah but as I always say I am not yet ready to conform to societal standards of what one should really be. It closes you down only preparing you for certain opportunities.
Cooking. I can’t cook well. I don’t make bland soup but I’m also aware that I ain’t the best cook anywhere. These lessons just passed me by. I am catching up though but with the explosion of male chefs I don’t find it necessary anymore. All I have to do is hang around restaurants till closing time and I take a chef home. As simple as learning ABC.
High heels. As a woman you are required to look astoundingly beautiful. Men are visual beings, you are educated. As you can guess, I have failed this one too. I am a flat shoes person(not sandals;I don’t know why I am so against them but worse are the so called doll shoes, I hate them!). I underwent self training(only once😂😂) and realized those high on end shoes were not meant for me. It is like taking a personality test.
It was one of those lazy days that there is nothing much to be done at home. My then friend(I really can’t remember her name, could be a Grace, Jane or some other righteous name) and I decided to go to the market. After a few rounds and even fewer purchases, we got to a place where shoes were being sold. The man was shouting at the top of his lungs that they were going for only sevente. I coudn’t believe the luck we had landed on and like other interested parties we got down examining the merchandise.
The shoe fit well and after paying the meagre price, I went home with a fine pair. Now I was like all other women(I was just in form one) owning a pair of high heels. They probably had many others to their collection but I would slowly sort that out as well.
The day I decided to don them, dad was coming to pick me to go to his place. I decided to wear them heels. After several steps, I discovered that my feet were killing me and I was not at all stable. If anything, I was making such a scene by just walking in them. Everyone was looking at me. By now I had covered such a distance and I couldn’t go back and wear the ‘normal’ shoes I was used to so I put my chin high and on I walked.
It was not until I met dad that I realized how bad the situation was. I was tripping and tripping and tripping. My feet hurt and I wanted to die. This was too much torture. When dad asked if I would be able to walk with them, I painfully lied that I could. But my words were cut short when I tripped again. He cut off the show by buying me a pair of sandals and I was so relieved. When we got home he almost asked me to return those damn shoes to where I bought them.
Here we are, 6 years later and high heels still kill me. My love for shoes makes me buy them as I now own at least 4 pairs yet I never wear them. I learnt a lesson the very hard way. I still see versions of the form one me trying their best to rush to their various classes. I understand them, they are in a bid to look professional now that they are in campus, maybe sexy. I don’t blame them.
High heels have been made the standard shoe wear for most working class ladies. No one tells them to go to work with the 4-inch heel. They feel predisposed to. The unspoken expectation. That is how a serious woman looks like. The models on the runways with their six-inches, it’s how the business runs. They have to create the illusion that they are tall. Height is really important in the industry coupled with thinness.
What most women wearing high heels on a daily basis fail to understand is that they have many effects in the long run. There are ankle pains which may lead to their breaking, back pains, sprains all these leading to injuries of the spine.
Once, we went to a show while in school and there was a campus diva who showed up wearing 6 inches, a mini dress and all eyes were on her. All the guys wanted to be walking beside her, there is power in heels ladies. The guy I was with made a mistake of asking me why I wasn’t wearing heels as well. I laughed then asked him,
Uko na gari?
He looked confused. I elaborated.
Ile siku utanunua gari, nitavaa.
I will never wear heels to a date I know involves walking to all stages and passing through vichochoro. No car, no heels! Till I buy my own, have the pleasure of finding me attractive in flats.