Walking in my stepdad's footsteps......

I was so very proud, my first pair of four inch heels. It was wonderful, when I got home and realised I was taller than both of my parents (even my mother, whose hair stands an inch all by itself). Be that as it may, why was I not warned?? It's not walking, it's falling. It's not even falling, one leg ends up some place different than the other one. Perhaps this is just the grace of an under developed ugly duckling. I don't think so. It is something that all women hide, successfully and unsuccessfully, It is some kind of sadistic, evil conspiracy, that women do not tell the agony involved when it comes to wearing heels. Why would anyone want to make me feel this ridiculous?

I have a somewhat conspicuous feeling that this is revenge. Models make it look so easy, so simple. One leg in front of the other. Hip, Hip. And Hooray, your off, looking utterly gorgeous. In reality, this happy occurrence, is nothing but a delusion.

That is how the situation developed in to a lesson. A lesson given, not by my Mother, as you might expect, but by my Step-dad. That is how, we both ended up in heels. He, gliding. Me, falling. He may have had considerably more practice in this area, surely though, this is not natural. For a dude to be better in heels than me. That is kind of insulting. But not exactly shocking. Colour me jealous.