#2. The #highheelschallenge
If there is anything more incongruous in life than a slowly reforming tomboy with a large collection of high heels I’d like to see it. My younger sister Tricia is at least 100 times more fashionable than I am and in an effort to help me become fashionable and chic, she’s been sending over glamorous high heels.
I don’t have the heart to tell her that, although they are gorgeous, I hardly wear them.
The reason is simple – my fashion sense is ‘comfort first’ and ‘if it’s stylish but uncomfortable don’t bother.’
Don’t get me wrong, I love pretty shoes as much as the next woman, but the thought of wearing a pair of heels for any stretch of time always gives me the shivers.
This has resulted in me having at least 20 pairs of these glam-chic heels that brighten up my closet and little else.
But it hit me today that I couldn’t just have all these beauties and not actually use them. After all the trouble Trish went through….and not even making the effort? That seemed stupid on my part.
And then there’s Jackie, my youngest sister, who has a deep minimalist streak and who always reminds me to chuck stuff out if I haven’t used them within six months. (As a pack rat this sixth month rule is very problematic but Jackie is working on me.)
Hence….This challenge. I told myself “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to challenge yourself to wearing a pair of heels each Sunday to mass and then after six months giving away one pair that you couldn’t manage?”
And I answered myself..”Yes!Sure! Why not?”
So I gave it a shot….packed my delicious looking floral patterned strappy Mossino’s in my church bag and went to first mass, determined to wear my shoes for the two hour service. How hard could it be?
Good thing I had on a pair of slippers at hand (they are hot pink and have excessive bead detail); those heels are high! I’m an inch or two short of six feet and when I wore my Mossino’s everyone around me automatically became very short.
But that’s not the best part – you know how people say “your shoes are killer”? Well thats what these shoes tried to do – kill me.
Perhaps it would have been wiser to break them in at a wedding or a more sedate event.
Midway through mass, I felt a sense of despair trickling in :’This is ridiculous. …I’m walking like I’m about to fall over….everyone’s laughing at me behind their handkerchiefs….”
And I almost removed them.
But then I didn’t. Another voice crept up “Listen Jenny, you can’t just give up on things because it’s uncomfortable and it hurts. And besides who said you have to be perfect on the first try? That’s your problem, you always want things to be perfect on the first day. That’s not how it works. Now stop whining and wear the shoes til end of mass like you said you would. Don’t give up so easily. Wear the damn shoes.”
So I did…..I wore the shoes and smiled and crossed my legs. When I walked up the aisle for communion or offertory I walked carefully and was careful to balance on the center of my heels.
And would you believe it – I continued wearing them ten minutes after mass as I greeted some friends. But afterwards I really needed to remove them because my calves were aching and my friends looked like midgets next to me.
But the lesson was well learnt – first time around will never be perfect but perfection isn’t really the goal here is it?