With the Grace of a Gazelle

Several years ago, a friend gave me a pair of black strappy stilettos. I laughed at the time, thinking how ridiculous it would be if I ever actually wore them, but last December an occasion arose, so I whipped out the sexy, barely there shoes and tried them on. And nearly died. Apparently there’s a bit of a learning curve when it comes to walking in a shoe with a three inch dagger. Somehow I survived the night, though dancing in them for several hours did lead to a dislocated toe.

Tonight I’ll be wearing those smokin’ hot heels from hell again, so it occurred to me that I might need a bit of practice before I’m allowed out in public. I spent a ridiculous amount of time this morning stumbling around the house like a drunken gazelle, dodging lego bombs and hot wheels death traps. It was like stiletto boot camp with the children acting as crazed drill instructors, throwing themselves in front of me with the hysterical suggestion that I learn to jump. It was surprisingly good practice, although I have now adopted the rather unsexy habit of walking like I’m in the middle of a mine field rather than with the graceful stride that I was hoping for.

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7 thoughts on “With the Grace of a Gazelle

    1. I haven’t worn the shoes again since that night. I very nearly gave them away the other month, but I held onto them, because now I feel like they are slightly famous. :p

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  1. I remember being the only girl in tennis shoes with a group of girls in heels one night. This was the night I learned about the flip flops high heel wearers carry in their purses. I laughed so hard at my friends every time they awkwardly (and progressively more drunkenly) ducked into alleys and empty store fronts to change their shoes. I think it was the first time they were jealous of my tomboy “I’m so not playing the girl game” attitude.

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      1. It’s funny how many girls seem to feel obligated to participate in the daily beauty contest. I just didn’t because I thought surely I could never look that good. I started calling this my “backwards self esteem” after a guy told me the reason boys liked me was because I behaved as though they couldn’t have me. I just thought no one wanted me. This bad behavior, rather than painting on a false self, actually helped me build confidence. I feel “covering up” the real you reinforces low self esteem and makes girls hide deeper.

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