A Likely Lass

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Archive for the tag “shoes”

If the shoe fits, it’s too expensive

Let’s talk for a minute about shoes.

No wait, let’s talk about genetics for a minute.

I come from Tall People. We’re Nordic, so that’s what we do: be Tall. There are good things that come from being tall: reaching the cupboards, for instance. Or being naturally good at sports involving reach, often because tall people have longer arms. There are not-so-great things, too. For instance: the shrinking of the “playing field” when you’re dating, the uncomfortableness of living in a house built in the 1920s, etc.

Why does the dating field shrink, you say? Well, as a woman who stands five feet eight and three-quarters inches without her shoes on, it means that with even the most minimal shoe, I am five feet nine inches tall. Add a pair of sneakers and suddenly I’m five-nine-and-a-half. Stilettos? Approaching six feet. Most men like to not have to reach upwards for their date, I am quite sure, nor stare upwards at a woman who is glaring suspiciously down at them (which is another thing Tall Nordic People are good at: glaring suspiciously. See: January Jones as “Betty Draper” in Mad Men).

This was not a problem in the cold Northern Reaches where I grew up: most men are around six feet or taller, probably having evolved to height because in snow-drifts, you are only half as tall. However, I have found that in Virginia, there seems to be a height ceiling of around five-foot-ten or eleven, for men, maybe five seven for women. Disregarding any scientific inquiry into cold and height ratio on a population or general population heights for this area, I’m fairly sure I’m taller than average.

Which naturally means, in three-inch heels, I’m a friggin’ amazon. Okay, okay, not really. I just feel like it.

It’s the primary reason that my small collection of Shoes I Love (primarily stilettos) go unworn (well, that and having to walk across a gravel parking lot and risk a broken ankle is not ideal). I feel like I tower over people. Possibly even Loom. However, I decided recently that if I’m going to spend money on lovely and expensive shoes, I really ought to wear them.
So thus has begun one of my first resolutions: wear ALL the shoes. Not at once, because that would be ridiculous, but one at a time. And after the first few days, I started keeping a tally.
Number of comments about my height: 22
Number of men visibly intimidated: 5
Number of men visibly intimidated (whom I was not making snarly faces at): 3
Number of men who made a comment about my “looming” over them: 1
Number of people who made a comment about me seeming “much shorter” when in sneakers: 7
That one brave soul who told me I should stop “looming” over him was none other than a coworker who works in the IT department, and is obviously confident enough in his ability to cut me off from Google News not to be intimidated by my sudden and alarming additional height.
So therein lies my quandary: do I loom over others, leaving them to gaze eternally at my chin (gosh how attractive) and allow myself to speak to their foreheads, or do I stop wearing fantastic shoes?
Dilemma.

No, really. Dilemma!

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