High Heels

When I was in my 20s in New York City I used to wear high heels. I could go everywhere in them. I even ran in them when I needed to. Then I began wear flats to work and changing into heels at the office. When I rode my bike to work, for a about two years or so, I went back to braving high heels all day. I didn't have the hard concrete pounding of the commute and could manage the soft carpeting of the office. I was like most every other woman in NYC. We'd wear comfortable walking shoes, sneakers or flats, and then change into heels once we'd gotten to our desired location. If we were going out for the night, we might wear heels since we knew we'd be taking taxis to and fro.

Then I moved to Paris. Wow! These women really wear high heels like nobody's business. They were heels all day long, commuting, running errands, taking their prodigy to schools and well into the night. The thing that also impressed me was that not only are they hoofin' it around on city sidewalks, but that a good part of this belle ville is covered in cobblestones and brick. The way they navigated cracks and crevices and not turning an ankle REALLY impressed me.

After about six years in this town I decided I wanted to try and dress more pretty like all my French counterparts. These women really dress every day! I began purchasing some high heels again. And I'd venture out for short walks, little by little to get back into the swing of things.

Well, yesterday I had a day full of running around and one of the rendezvous included an interview with a company that really impressed me. I figured my high heel boots might be up for the challenge.

I tottered out, walking about a good 10 minutes up-hill to my first appointment, a lunch date. About 3 minutes into the venture I was cursing myself thinking "why did I do this" "go home and change" "you're ridiculous Courtney, you'll never make it" "i'll have to buy a pair of flats somewhere along the way..." etc etc etc.

Resting my already-weary pieds for an hour was good--the next leg of my journey included hoofing it out to a metro, bus, more walking and then two more buses with A LOT of walking in between.

After about an hour of running this one errand and getting to my interview, I'd recovered and was in full "I'm a vrai Frenchwoman" able to walk all day in my heels. I felt like such a grown-up.

By the time I got home at 16h00 (4:00 PM) I was grateful to rest for 10 minutes, and change into my high-heel sneakers (another French-woman must-have) to go pick my son up from school!