“I’m not afraid of heights. Have you seen my shoes?”
Carrie Bradshaw
I recently bought 5 and 6 inch high platform boots and booties. I unpacked them and sighed, lovingly caressing their beauty. Joy filled my heart when they turned out to be easily walkable. Statement heels without pain were the answer to my yearning. They say I am rebellious and strong in my edgy elegance, standing in proud height overlooking who I am today. I rose above my status of “old”, have high-minded ideas and very much love the lofty heights of being very much awake; I feel elevated by 6 inches of plastic fantastic Azalea Wang creations.
Not being afraid of heights means we’re not afraid to fall. But what do we fall into when rising up on heels?
Why, after two Pandemic years of accepting flip flops in LA and sneakers in Seattle was I attracted to test my legs capacity to balance on heels again? Certainly a rebel reaction to the blah of times void of galleries openings, hip restaurants and movie premieres. But like many of us I am into review, reset and reclaim after these months of enforced or inspired change, which makes eccentric shoes a means of reflection.
2020, the promised decade of clear vision, has so far shown us the dark side of our reality. In crude summery; we are helplessly watching white old men making a mess again.
If we have any chance to change the future into a true female mindset, we have to learn from our past. High heels, so frivolously embedded in patriarchal esthetics are an amazing tour de fun enlightenment. The psychology of the diva named shoe has been widely discussed for centuries and for various obvious or subtle reasons it can always be traced back to sex and power. Criticized as oppressive, sexist and chauvinistic, heels have also been sold to us as sophisticated choices for political power chicks and boss babes.
If high heels were so wonderful, men would be wearing them.
(Sue Grafton)
They did, Sue. The power-hungry history of high heels is male, dating back to ancient times but famously to the 15th century when Persia’s soldiers used them to secure their stances in their saddles; they were an instrument of war. Persia’s diplomats cruising Europe in heels caused a style revolution; men loved dominance, intimidation was a darling drug and the height of heels promised both. Every entitled male went coo coo for the craze. Louis XIV red soles were only allowed to be worn by his close circles and who’d dare to copy them was banned from the court. Not being very practical added to their snob appeal. Who needs to work or walk when you can plunge your brocade wrapped behind in a heavily ornamented arm chair and play with your overload of jewelry.
I was giggling on my lofty height plateaus not only as I felt like training for Cirque de Soleil, but because the rebel women of the century, courtesans, copied the male only trend. They walked on chopines, plateau constructions of up to ten inches, and my intuition tells me that it was a riot for them to make fun of men’s exuberant vanities. Courtesans, other than even aristocratic women who later also dared the walk on heels, had power early on. They were the only women allowed into libraries, to read, smoke, drink all in the name of pleasing men yet their pleasing was packed with powerful intrigues.
Heels were their sarcastic statement of liberation, a walk of prowess not pain and shame. Courtesans were adored, lifted to positions as high as their heels would take them.
The nature of trends was that it spread from high up to the lower levels. Europe's wealthy classes followed a unisex shoe fashion until the end of the 17th Century, when things began to change again.
The age of enlightenment, proud of rationality and intellect, robbed men of jewelry and exuberant brocades, turned them into the boring seriousness many wear today and twisted women into irrational, emotional beings, as foolish and effeminate as their high heels. Vanity became female. Heels were hit with the label of ultimate femininity.
Imagination teaser: how would ultimate femininity as a power to conquer the world look like?
Today, women in western societies often are still, depending on where they live, restricted by common standards, forced to wear 3 inch pumps in the corporate office or 2 inch wedges like every other woman in their community. Mothers, so Claudia Schiffer, shouldnt wear heels as they can’t run after their children. Why not enjoy them and run after the kids anyway, barefoot? It only takes a second to be flexible.
Those of us who live in LA, New York and cosmopolitan cities like Berlin, Rio or Paris can wear what we want no matter what age, whereas we might be frowned at or kicked to the curb in the Bible belt or Bavaria. The lucky ones live where freedom of choice isn’t a full blown illusion; they move fast in runners, combine evening gowns with sneakers, stomp in combat boots, feel nostalgic in kitten heels or balance on stilettos.
When heels are a conscious choice they become what society promised; sophisticated and powerful. Society made them the ultimate female power tool why not use and reappropriate them? Instead of seducing men we seduce life to be what we want it to be; a stage for powerful women who wear what they feel.
As fashion forerunners we have let go of the restrictions of midlife entanglement, revolutionized “old” in mini skirts, fishnet stockings, red lipstick and long manes. When we wear heels we know their history and the hate and love debates. To harness their rebellious power we step into the story of the fierce, educated women who exercised their right to be sexual like a man, adored like a goddess and respected for their cultural refinement and intellect in a time where most women were held at home like pets. Only shaking off the morals, fears and indoctrinated beliefs of their time made courtesans taste the freedom of literally higher realms.
I wear plateau heels because I am a midlife rebel, they have become my mission statement of confidence, my personal platform of empowerment intended as an inspiration for all women but mainly those battered by ageism. I wear chunky and plateau heels because they are both feminine and masculine, they exude sensuality and strength, pink love and punk; they are a cultural revolution of fierce women who take criticism and transform it into clarity.
High heels in midlife are a shock for many; we incite change by being fearlessly different. If you are opposed to heels, I dare you to try and listen to your body and soul messages when you walk. If you wear heels, dig a little deeper and make them your tool to know thy intentions.
Fashion is rarely comfortable, but I assure you that well made plateau heels don’t hurt. They are in many ways a step up from the aggressive stiletto, the Italian word for dagger.
High heels put your ass on a pedestal, where it belongs.
Veronica Webb
Every shoe we step into makes us walk differently and every walk connects us with its history and creates a feeling. We’ve got kitten heels, pumps, spools, stilettos, ankle strap heels, wedges, sling backs, pompadours, espadrille heels, ballroom, cone and cowgirl boot heels, chunky and comma styles, platform, plateaus and wild fantasy heels. Shoes are perfect for exploration; walk like a soldier, cowgirl, house wife, diva, ballerina, bully, politician, boss or teenie bopper and grow in inner height even more than in outer.
In which shoes will you walk your power?
Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world when she changes what cultural femininity means and transforms metaphors of oppression into tools of empowerment.
If we make heels powerful again, will men follow us? Is the future - female in heels?
