IN WHICH I CONSIDER DRESSING TO KILL.
Accessories are part of the GAS — Glamour, Attractiveness, Sexiness — we put in our tank on our journey through Life à la Hot. Take the time to complete your look with the right jewelry, handbag, scarf — even gloves and hats, when appropriate. But it’s your shoes, especially, that you can count on to leave a trail of smoldering ash behind you, not to mention a few chalk body outlines where men have fallen like dominos in your wake.
I’m wearing high heels again after a hiatus of many years. I no longer have the exhausting job from hell, or the frantic schedule of a working single mom — or the depression and health problems generated by those circumstances and my response to them, which was to gain a ton of weight. So, lighter on my feet, and in fleet-footed pursuit of romance, I’ve returned to high heels.
Even as I can see them as old-school, sexist instruments of torture — no different than Chinese foot binding, at a certain height — the fact is, high heels are often necessary to a glamorous presence, and so, not to be dispensed with in a smokin’ hot existence. Anyway, I can’t ignore the fact that lengthening my legs just downright makes them, and the rest of me, look fabulous.
Anyway, I can’t take on the shoe industry singlehandedly. High heels are everywhere, and the choice of shoes only seems to be between the lowest of flats — which make my legs look like a couple of stumps, and anyway, are hellish on my tendons — and the most towering of stilettos. And no, I won’t be going for the “sensible”ones in between — I’d rather make whoopee than make sense, anytime.
It’s taken awhile for me to get used to shoes we used to see only in the Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogue — or on a transvestite hooker — now as the norm for women. The last time I wore high heels daily, they just weren’t anywhere near as high, nor as spikey. Even as I’m thinner these days, I’m purposely no sylph, and that’s a whole lot of weight balancing on the ball of a Goddess’s foot, especially with my high arches.
Now that I’ve made a comeback to the style maven I’d been during my years as a fashion designer, I’m getting used to wearing heels again. Because, stand back lady killers — we man killers are just as lethal.
What better accessory to that crime than a pair of drop dead, sexy heels?
Yours truly,
