Yes, this is what we’re supposed to be wearing on our feet this spring: Sky-high, foot-bending, toe-pinching monstrosities.
Now, fashion and aesthetics dictate that short and petite girls like me can’t wear too-tall or too-chunky heels, because they’ll look disproportionate in comparison to our bodies. Only tall women can wear super-tall heels. Footwear must be proportionate. As someone who would very much like to be tall and who also enjoys her shoes, this can be frustrating.
However. This season I suppose I should be thanking my lucky stars that any of these shoes would look ridiculous on me, since they pose serious physical risks:
Even for someone who is used to wearing stilettos and monster platforms, the shoes for spring present a special challenge. You just can’t escape the fact that they are taller, more outrageous, involving a great deal more design and expense but also, it must be said, a great many more opportunities to humiliate yourself. Who pictures herself on a gurney? And how do you explain it?
“It’s not like you broke your leg skiing in St. Moritz,” Candy Pratts Price, the executive fashion director of Style.com, said the other night. “That’s a good story. But ‘I fell off my platforms’?” Ms. Price smirked.
A sad story indeed. Pathetic that women risk their ankles and physical health for fashion (but what else is new?); more pathetic that the fashion industry reguarly pushes the limits of female masochism to see what else they can possibly sell.
At Avenue of the Americas and 55th Street I got out of a taxi. Taking the R train there was out of the question: not only are the heels high and slanted, but they also taper to a point the size of a nailhead. I had thought to take along a pair of ballet flats, which many bright women in New York on their way to a date or a party have no trouble rationalizing. It’s like having a limousine without the expense and bother.
I mounted the curb. Now six feet tall, I suddenly felt less invincible than wretchedly vulnerable, to gross stares and gusts of wind. Michael’s, barely half a block away, seemed a journey of several miles.
I clumped toward the big “Love” sculpture. I thought: “This won’t do. Lunch will be over by the time I get there.” Looking around — oh, what was the point! — I ducked behind a pillar and put on my ballet flats. Then I hurried on to Michael’s, bolting past Ms. Wintour and the noontime crowd.
Ok. I’m not anti-high-heel. I love my high heels, although admittedly I always wear flats (and by “flats” I mean “Converse”) during the day because I do a lot of walking and there’s really only so far I’m willing to go to torture myself for height. It is possible to find comfortable heels; I own a handful of pairs, and show my allegiance to them by continually getting the heels repaired rather than buy new ones which could be potentially less comfy. But come on, ladies. There are reasonable limits, aren’t there? When you physically cannot walk in them, isn’t it time to give up the Lanvins?
In other circumstances, like walking on the wall-to-wall at the office or at a party where I mostly stood, the Lanvins were actually comfortable, and I enjoyed my new height and the giddy looks of fright on the men in the office.
Of course there are a million feminist implications to high heels, not all of which I buy, but most of which I’ll lend some credence. The problems with these shoes are fairly self-evident: What does it say when fashion makes women physically incapable of walking? The obvious parallel here is Chinese foot binding, and I think that the comparison to high heels is fairly apt. The other interesting issue is the whole power thing. Height infers power. High heels conjure up various images of highly sexualized power: the dominatrix, the sexy female executive, etc. And so the high-heel wearer can certainly feel powerful when the men around her are simultaneously aroused and fearful at the sight of her shoes. But is it true that power is power is power? Doesn’t the feeling of power in this situation come from play-acting, from putting oneself into costume and fitting into a role defined by and performed for men? Is that an equivalent kind of power to the one that the male executive has? Is it as valuable?
I don’t think so. My point isn’t the demonize high heels, or the fashion industry, or the women who wear those heels. You can certainly wear high heels and still be a feminist (if not, I’m in big trouble). You can do all kinds of uncomfortable things and still be a feminist. But I hesitate to jump on the (largely third-wave, it seems to me) bandwagon which says that as long as its a “choice,” it’s ok. You’ve heard this argument — posing half-naked for Maxim isn’t anti-feminist because it’s her choice. Prostitution isn’t anti-feminist because it’s her choice. Stripping isn’t anti-feminist because it’s her choice. Now, I think that posing half-naked (or fully naked) or stripping or prostitution can certainly all co-exist with feminism. Feminists can do all of those things and still maintain their feminist credentials. Those acts can even be turned into feminist acts. But while feminism does give us permission to do with our bodies what we please, I don’t think it gives us permission to do those things without questioning what they mean in a greater social context. Feminists can wear high heels. But I’m not sure that a feminist can simply wear painful, physically dangerous high heels, say, “It’s my choice,” and end the conversation there. Yes, it’s her choice. But why? How is she benefiting, and what’s going on where benefits are conferred upon women who make physically harm themselves for beauty?
Should any woman have to explain or validate her choices to anyone else? No. But I would hope that we would all think, individually, about why we make the choices we do. I would hope that we would do so through a feminist lens. And I would hope that none of us feels that she has to live her entire life according to an ideology based on what a “good” feminist would do, instead of doing whatever she needs to do to find satisfaction and happiness.
All that said, I secretly like the Gucci Geppettos.
Frightening. I’m so certain no one in their right minds will wear these except to try it once.
But you know, I’ve been writing something about third wave feminism and I’d love recommended articles, especially from feminists who speak directly to issues of fashion: pushup bras, etc.
Or even if it’s just texts that you think are distinctively third-wavish.
Please email with refs if you don’t mind: info AT pulpculture DOT org. Much appreciated.
Which are the Guccis? Coz I like the first pair on the left, though I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t wear them. I actually feel better in heels than flats — my feet. But those? They look like they’d be thrusting my forward — like I was going to dive into a pool soon and swim a relay. :)
i reject – for myself only, mind you – the fashion industry and its credos, but… well… aren’t high heels, normal high heels, already bad enough on women’s backs/feet/calves/etc.? (i’m asking naively! i only own one pair of 3-inch heels, and i wear them for weddings only… well, for a few hours at each wedding before i go barefoot) why take that further? and by that i don’t mean “why do designers design them and why to manufacturers have them made” – the answer is plain: because they will sell. no, my question is why buy them at all? i’m really naive about things like that. i just have never really hopped on the fashion wagon, and i’m not trying to be a snob or anything: i’m honestly, genuinely curious.
“Normal” high heels are, indeed, already bad for your back unless you consciously engage your abdominal muscles and drop your tail bone more or less straight down. Like a dancer, only less clenched. ;-) If you can do that, or do it naturally, they will wreak less havoc on your back. BUT..!! Wearing the same height high heel every day can tend to shorten the achilles tendon, sometimes to the point of not being ABLE to wear normal shoes, i.e., flats. Bleah!
Fashion goes in cycles, and we are reaching the, pardon the pun, height of this one. At least there is an alternative to the blocky, clunky heels that were so pervasive a few years ago! *grin* (Says the short chick who hardly ever wears heels higher than about 1 1/2 inches. ;-) That all said, I think women really are taking their health in their own hands by wearing those incredibly, ridiculously high things, and I recommend against it when my clients (a lot of brides) ask. If you’re going to be wearing them all day, they HAVE to be comfortable, and it IS possible to find a shoe with a little height that won’t be tortuous. But dang — it can take some looking! *shakes head*
Working in tandem with most misogynistic practices, heels are shoes that make women different from men; they force that mincing ‘feminine’ stride, they readjust the posture to get a little more breast-thrusting action, etc. These are the results of wearing high heels, and somehow just the object itself (a shoe) has become a signifier for sexual availability (i.e. fuck-me heels)
I think the power/powerless dichtomy is one of the allures of such outrageously high (and uncomfortable!) heels. As you said, women wearing heels are tall, and tall=powerful, and lets not forget the porny implications of the pointy heel being used to crush male genitals (see #4 in that picture!), but this power is immediately undercut by the tottering stride and general immobility of a woman who is wearing them.
again, i’m being naive – but there are seasons where i just don’t buy shoes – i can’t! when all i could find was platforms, for example. or pointy toes (my feet are large, and i refuse to think it’s my body that is wrong and not fashion itself – and it pisses me off to no end not to be able to find any kind of shoe anytime!). why not simply refuse, not buy? if an item is refused by customers, companies get the idea, and quick. one message we can easily send is through what we spend our money on, so if they can’t treat our bodies properly, why can’t we talk to them in the only language they understand – money? i’m just puzzled at the practical aspects of such torture instruments (specifically the shoes pictured). i do enjoy the theoretical discussion, but in practice, collectively, there is something we can do here! if women do buy those shoes (as opposed to a man buying them for her to wear – ewww!), again i ask… why oh why?
Indeed fiveblue, shelleth. I will be wearing shoes like that when hell freezes over (or better yet, when the patriarchy is no more!*bitter smirk*)
I like the green shoes in theory, but there’s no way in hell.
It really reminds me of the foot binding that went on in China. Same deal.
This is neither here nor there but if it’s any comfort to anyone (which it won’t be), those particular shoes are not, in reality, that much more painful and horrible than, say, your “average” two inch heels. The platform gives a lot more height but it pretty much offsets the length of the heel. …I’m pretty sure the FUCKSHITHELLCRAP pain of heels derives mostly from how far your heel is from the ball of your foot when in those shoes (i.e. shoe #1 would be murder).
However, the spiky, easy-to-get-your-foot-caught-in-a-crack-in-a-sidewalk-and-WHOOP!-there-you-go-SPLAT!-face-first-into-the-pavement stiletto heels are still pretty bad.
Whatever happened to the flats fad of last year? Were women not precariously perched or painfully pinched enough to be considered gorgeous? *sigh*
That’s it. No intellectual content in this comment. :)
Most of the super-short women I know wear mega-heels. Personally, I have a bum knee, so they’re out for me.
But I see these nutty things as sort of metaphorical. I mean, you see the crazy shit women wear on runways, and by the time it trickles down to Target & Macy’s, it’s sort of normal looking, just influenced by the runway in some nebulous way; color or fabric or something. I think these whacko shoes are probably just “influential.” By the time I’m shopping in Payless there will be flats to be had.
Thank you for reminding me how much I love my steel toed workboots.
I think I’m going to dig them out just to walk around in.
The green ones, second from the left. I tend to like more delicate-looking shoes, and I hate chunky heels, so it makes sense.
Babygirl missed the 70s, I take it.
My mother wouldn’t let me wear clogs after I kept falling out of them and getting hurt.
I was one of those chronically undecided types in college. I took a couple of very interesting courses in Fashion History.
Would you believe heels were first worn by men??
And later when they were worn by women, they were designed to basically hobble us. Because it was a status thing to have the money to keep a wife who didn’t have to do anything, and in fact couldn’t walk across the room to do anything if she wanted. And besides being a display of affluence, it kept the little lady from getting too independent.
I am 5’10″. I came to love heels later in life, after I found peace with my stature.
But this whole idea of hobbling ourselves really irks me. Fashion shouldn’t mean discomfort or restriction, right? Shoot, if they can put a man on the moon, they should be able to design a heel that’s sexy and comfortable too.
I do like heels, or at least the way they look.
But the pairs I have live in my desk drawer at work and only come out on rare occasions.
The memory of my mother’s hammertoes and bunions is too firmly fixed in my mind.
is it true that power is power is power?
my answer would be a resounding “no,” and this is where i find i clash with some third-wave trends (for all the choice-language reasons that you note, among other things). i feel like feminism has to have equal parts celebration and criticism. it’s great to celebrate the things that we do like and not be cowed or forced into liking or disliking certain things, but we have to be aware that these “choices” still exist in a context. i’m saddened by the lack of broader, more incisive critical analysis in a lot of third wave feminism (present website excluded, of course!).
Do you have any idea how many people those stupid shoes could feed? How many rents could get paid? Why is it ok to be nonchalant about such grotesque over indulgence? Why should I give a rat’s fart about how this selfish bitch spends her money except to be reminded that such people exist, since I certainly don’t speak to them or go where they go. Seven hundred dollars for shoes! And on top of that she’s got a frickin’ litter of kids to care for, but lo if she ever fail to be super-sexy-fashion-barbie momma.
Well now, there you go, good thing she didn’t need to take the R-train to escape a rapist or Godzilla or something. She’d meet her fate like every other blonde starlet; fallen and gazing up helplessly and unable to move as the creature descends upon her.
…and I was hungry as hell, but I didn’t eat, no I am not weak, I have the will to conform…then…
I have read that locks, stocks, neck plates and other fine garments were popular for certain women back in the good old medeival days. And remember the chastity belt?
How about a pair of heels with nails protruding inside them, just in case the wearer gets ‘used’ to them and finds herself enjoying a little morsel of comfort and security? I mean its all about fashion, those shiny steel nails heads on the outside, setting off the curve of the foot so nicely.
Oh, I just HAVE to have some!
‘Oh the import of my work!’ says the designer ‘women are nothing til I have them decorated!’
What’s weird is street fashion is getting increasingly more feminine, but at the same time, a wider variety of cute, comfortable shoes are available. I’m all bought out on adorable flattish shoes that look good with skirts and jeans. Right now I’m in fashion heaven–so many femme-y clothes that are still comfortable and practical. It’s like the fashion gods smiled on me these past couple years.
No wonder it’s going the complete opposite direction to ugly, uncomfortable clothes.
Actually, closer to 800.
Anyone with 800 to spend on shoes and five kids in Manhattan to boot probably has a brownstone and a nanny and doesn’t really concern herself with taking the R train (and really, the train? when you’re on assignment? We know you expensed that cab, baby).
Of course they can, just as high heel wearing can, IF and only IF it weren’t that engaging in such activities has a higher proclivity of risking one’s health and safety in the partriarchy in which we live today, or in a world where being able to walk well or even run can mean the difference between life and death.
In my mind, when an oppressed class takes on roles or behaviors that do not improve their welfare or make sense when taken out of the context of the oppressors’ control and approval, then no matter what the protestations in opposition, the act exists solely to signal submission to that oppression.
Waaaaait a minute. If the short girls can’t wear the tall shoes…who can?! And every tall friend I ever had bitched that she could never wear heels (or for that matter, date a guy over 5’9).
Anyway, I don’t get the point of wearing shoes you can’t walk in. But then again, my closet is a graveyard of shoes that made my feet bleed after 5 minutes of outdoor walking- and that’s all flats! I don’t know how the uber-heeled girls do it! I found ONE pair of heels in my life that didn’t cause me pain, and my ex lost them :P*
* er, he didn’t wear them…it took him a year to return my stuff and lost half of it. Then again, I let all of his sit in the rain, so I guess we’re even.
I once wore a pair of high heels to go out, and by the time I came home, there was blood all over my shoes. I left small bloody footprints all over the floor when I limped into the bathroom to clean my feet off, and even more when I limped down the hall to pitch the bloody fuckers into the garbage chute.
At any rate, I see fewer and fewer girls and women wearing these shoes, primarily I guess because it’s not sexy to limp around with bloody feet. It can really ruin the effect of an outfit, you know? Last time I was in South Beach, where people live and breathe fashion, I’ve seen lots of platform espadrilles, lots of those beaded Chinese slippers, lots of beaded or jeweled flip-flops, and lots of really cute trendy sneakers in silver and pink and black. All of these shoes are adorable and stylish, and best of all, you can walk in them without worrying about shattering one’s ankle or severing one’s baby toes. I can only hope this trend keeps up, because I am determined to never wear another pair of high heels for the rest of my life. (Luckily for me I’m tall enough as it is – six feet even – so it’s not much of an issue.)
I would think that stilts, at least, would be better for one orthopedically. But hey, what’s a little fashion-related disfigurement among models and socialites.
Hey, whatever happened to that whole “foot-binding” thing? Let’s bring that back!
I haven’t worn heels since kindergarten, but the pair on the far left remind me of Cybil Shepherd’s observation that heels are a form of bondage.
I’ve never been able to think of heels as bondage really: maybe I’m too good at them? I regularly run for and catch trains in 3-inches and get a pretty long stride–as long as it gets at 5 feet tall — going in them.
I’m intrgued by the idea that you can be a feminist and do the girly thing. Personally, I’ve excluded myself from being a “real feminist” because i’m not willing to give up the “uncomfortable” bits. I will strap on heels, sleep sitting up if it’ll save my hairdo, shave, wax, pluck and sometimes skip eating so as to look completely devoid of stomach for an evening date. I don’t know… they’re things that I’ve done even when there are no men around– which either proves that they’re totally ingrained or that I do it for myself, but I don’t know which.
I’m not sure how to make gender conformist acts feminist ones? And if some heels are OK for women, why are others not? It seems like the difference between stripping and burlesque (and really, to me, once the men join the audience, they become the same thing).
Them shoes look like they’d come in pretty handy if you gotta paint a ceiling or hang drywall or something. Also if you go to one of those music shows where they don’t have any seats, and you want to see the band over top of the people in front of you. I used to have some real nice cockroach-killer (i.e., pointed-toe) cowboy boots with big tall heels I got at a yard sale that I liked to wear to events like that.
After my older daughter let her hair go back to blonde, my wife took over her abandoned Doc Martens. Boy, those are some fine shoes! Good looking and they last forever, too. I’ve got to get some for myself.
Now, the fashion industry doesn’t hate you ladies! They just tend to occasionally produce “clothing” which no human being can actually wear. See, they’re artists and you have to indulge them; it’s like, there aren’t really any women with both eyes on one side of their nose either.
‘In my mind, when an oppressed class takes on roles or behaviors that do not improve their welfare or make sense when taken out of the context of the oppressors’ control and approval, then no matter what the protestations in opposition, the act exists solely to signal submission to that oppression.’
Yes.
High heels conjure up various images of highly sexualized power: the dominatrix, the sexy female executive, etc.
Ahh but there’s the rub: the secretary also wears the painful highheels, as does the female sub, every bit of painful clothing that infers power also serves a duel purpose of reminding women subconciously that it can be a symbol of pure oppression should men choose to withdraw the power they have given women.
There’s also the side factor that men don’t need special shoes to feel powerful when they hold powerful positions.