Clickety click.

So today I had lots of places to go and put on my modest heels, they are very school marm, sensible and not very high. Within 5 minutes I was fed up of tripping round the house avoiding falling over, 'cos I'm not a seasoned practitioner of heels and they never seem quite safe, or built to let you get where you are going quickly.

I was reminded of Gok's Fashion Fix last night, where he wheeled out a new capsule wardrobe to transform this woman, sure enough there were about three or four pairs of shoes, none of them had heel less than about 3 inches. I thought about walking up my works car park with a colleague who always wears tall stilettos and how I had to walk Soooooo slowly as she was struggling on the uneven surface, see I park on the right where there's pebbles, she parks on the left as her shoes do not allow uneven surfaces.

So heels, hmmm. Inspiration of the patriarchal, misoginistic devil to keep women teetering and unable to move, with their bums and boobs stuck out because of the way they have to compensate with their posture for the unnatural tippy toesness. Or every right thinking women's right to express her magnificent femininity and make her feel special.?

I think I may have to come back here again sometime, because I recall the colleague referring to my uniform work shoes as 'lesbian shoes' and I don't feel she was expressing affirmation. Layers of meaning and subjectivity loom there and it's time to drink tea. Laters.