February 3, 2012


Recently I was the happy guest of a friend at a fundraising luncheon at our local university.  For the ladies in our fair city, this event is quite the place to be and be seen so everyone pulls out the stops regarding wardrobe.  Because this affair is designed for an audience of ladies, we all did what we usually do in the presence of a crowd of  other ladies. We wore our most adorable outfits because the fairer sex takes note of these things.  We notice the worthiness of the dress, the pants, the hair style and of course, the shoes.  Speaking of, have you noticed that shoe styles are becoming more and more masochistic these days?  I was soooo happy to say goodbye to the pointy toed fence climbing creatures of pain that saw me through the last decade.  But wait.  True, the new version of footwear is less painful, but it is also more treacherous for sure.  The heels are about four stories high and there are platforms under the balls of the feet, just to make sure that you don’t get too cocky about walking.  Surely these evil lovebirds are designed in some shady back room, by men who hate women.  They are not an efficient means of transportation from point A to point B. Metaphorically speaking they are the equivalent of sleeping on a bed of nails in order to get a good night’s rest.  Truly, shoes were originally intended to PROTECT the feet, not implode them along with everything north of there.  For any gentleman reading this who has no concept of the platform high heel experience, here is an idea for you.  Strap a brick to the bottom of the ball of your foot.  Now stack two more and strap them to your heel.  Now walk.  Do it sexy like.  Better yet, dance!  Now you get it.  Helpful Hint:  It is possible to maneuver these babies if you sort of march everywhere you go. Think Sousa.  Think drill team.  Get those knees up!  Because you see, this footwear doesn’t bend.  AT ALL . So there we all were on Saturday, drinking champagne and laughing and chatting away. Bidding on auction items we didn’t really want. And the really well dressed gals were marching around the room not even noticing that they were doing it. Even the twenty somethings were hugging the walls just in case.  Even the most long legged, graceful fashionistas in the room were marching just a little bit. Everyone sporting these these seductive clodhoppers were unconsciously and instinctively dodging  a Jerry Lewis comedy routine with each step.  Hup two three four.  Hup…..You get it.  No one can argue that a pair of gams looks fabulous in these cherry pickers, but really, my guess is that these runway land mines are at their best in a seated position, legs crossed.  Or just about any other position other for that matter.  What they are not happy about, is walking.


One Response to “Clodhopping”

  1. Tom Anderson said

    never mind

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