Just the other day, we're chitchatting about high heels, what's all the fuss about, the state of it in the midst of high fashion and popular culture, and the perils of it. So then, it's timely when I read the article about the low opinion on high heels.
I'm sure most, if not all, girls go through that same stage when they want to grow up in a hurry. Dressing up, wearing make-up and mommy's high heels, are probably some of the rite of passage that girls would go through, as part of the growing up. I went through that stage myself, and I still remember how that's like.
What started the conversation with my daughter the other day was, I saw her slipping into a pair of high heels slippers that I put aside, ready for donation to Salvation Army. That pair of high heels, being the last pair in my closet, are the remnants from a bygone era. My daughter was intrigued since she never saw me wear any high heels. In fact, I haven't worn heels (or tight, pointy shoes) higher than two inches since before she's born. She slips them on and wobbles in it a bit. She finds it funny to have the clack-clack-clack of the heels hitting the hardwood floor. She thinks it looks adult; even pretty.
I never wore much make-up or stockings since I hate the sensation of being "wrapped" in something. (In fact, if I can help it, I don't wear regular socks either; but I need them when I wear sneakers. I'm the bare-foot type of person. And I hate pantyhose.) But yes, back then, I sported long straight hair (which garnered much compliment back then). I took to the liking of jewelry and accessory. I like fashionable clothing which at the time must have made me looked like I'm at least 10-15 years more mature than I really was. And I had a soft spot for shoes; lots of them, a lot of them were high heels.
The trouble of the shoes fetish is that, it has long term consequences. To me, the most obvious one is that, the tight, pointy high heels left me the legacy of an enlarged bunion on both feet. They give me constant low-grade pain. I used to have really bad callus on my heels and in other part of my feet too. Since I stop wearing high heels or tight shoes, the callus has gone away. But the bunions - and the pain - stay.
I actually don't dislike high heels; some of them look pretty classy and smart-looking. But I increasingly find it very confining for women. Why do we allow ourselves to be defined by what the fashion industry says is pretty (or not pretty) on us? (To be sure, the same goes with everything, including make-up, fashion, how thin girls need to be, how women should walk or talk, yada yada.) For hundreds of years, Chinese women had had their feet crushed and bound, all for the enjoyment of men. It is perhaps a triumphant moment to have women liberated from those ancient traditions. And here we are, all the girls and women, young and old, willingly subjecting themselves to the whims of the fashion industry. When they see celebrity and models wear high heels, they wear high heels. And so, the fashion trends begin.
My daughter, being not even 10 years of age yet, could not have known or comprehended all the history and background of it. All she sees is what people on the street, or in movies, or in books, etc; and she sees them wearing high heels. She thinks people believe that's what beauty is. That's stage one of brainwash.
When I start explaining to her how it's like, hundreds of years ago, of what women had to endure, to literally crush the bones of their own feet when they're just a toddler, in order to achieve the feat of constricting their feet to a very desirable length of under 3 inches, that's the kind of twisted reality that women used to be subject to. My daughter immediately checks out my feet - being a very healthy, size 7.5, and some 9 inches in length - she cannot comprehend how my feet (or any adult's feet) can be reduced to less than 3 inches. So, we get on the web and search on bound feet. Sure enough, wikipedia has pretty detailed depiction of the custom, including pictures of what a 3-inch bound feet would look like. She does a very big "eeeewww!!" That's right, that's supposed to be what one should have exclaimed, when fashion designers begin pushing 10-inch heels on runways, heels so high that even the models would take them off and refuse them to wear them when they're parading down the aisle. As the article rightly points out, if these models can't even walk in them - and a number of them slipped and tripped, as a result - and they're paid to do so, why would retail consumers think they would fare better?
(I must've sounded like a feminist, but I don't consider myself one. Or maybe I'm not the overt, militant style feminist as those of yore. But I'm all for women's ability to make their own decisions, rather than having decisions be imposed on them. That's why I find the whole contraception debate with the GOP so very condescending; but that's a story for another day.)
Women - and men alike, I'm sure - take time to mature and find their way. For me, it starts in my 30s. That's the age when I know what I like (and don't like); and when I realize I can do what I like (and not what others tell me to). That's the age when I get comfortable in my own skin, and I would live my life in the way I want it (and not what others want me to). It's also the time when I have sufficient confidence to say, yes I've tried this (eg. high heels) and I don't like it and I'm not going to do it anymore.
I suppose one would have to go through those rite of passage, having tried it and realized what it's like, so that I can confidently tell my daughter, high heels would give her health problems (eg. bunion), and once it's there, it's something she'll have to live with for the rest of her life, and it's no fun. I suppose too, that she would still give those things a try, like make-up and nail polish and some such. I can only hope, for the benefit of my daughters, that it would not take her too long to find her own (dis)liking, and gain the necessary confidence to declare her own liberation from all these invisible bondage from the pop culture.
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