My life as a high-heel junkie is now in the rehab phase. But I must say the journey was fun while it lasted.
Red shoes, black shoes, teal shoes and purple shoes. Not to mention tall, sleek, strappy sandals.
Sassy, classy boots that exuded confidence with each step I strutted.
That was my life as a high heel junkie.
I enjoyed decades as a diva; an absolute high-heel-aholic.
Don’t misunderstand, I also wore my share of tennis shoes. Not to mention hiking boots, and – oh yeah. Swim fins. Do they count?
But oh, did I enjoy a long, lavish love affair with high heels.
After all, I’m 5’2″ on a good day, so tall shoes provided me another few inches.
I mean, somebody has to keep the shoe designers in business. It might as well be me. And you, of course.
(I didn’t wear the shoes showed in this blog. Most were not quite as high. So give me a break. No pun intended here.)
Last week, my life as a high-heeled addict crashed to a close. I was knocked off my platforms, so to speak.
Here’s the low-down of how I was knocked into the world of flats forever.
A few years ago, I noticed protrusions forming alongside my big toes.
I’d had friends develop bunions, so I was pretty sure that’s what it was. (I’m a Seattle girl, so picture Mount Rainier here.)
Nobody ever told me that:
1) You don’t have to be an old lady to get bunions.
2) If you do get a bunion, the sooner you take care of the issue, the better.
3) This includes wearing high quality shoes with a wide toe box and quality arch supports. (I see light at the end of the tunnel. A shopping trip, girls. Let’s go!)
I switched from heels to Dansko shoes about four years ago. They are so comfortable and come in a zillion colors and styles.)
Nevertheless, the bunion on my right foot is rated severely deformed. Ouch! Not to mention hideous. (You’ve heard of the abominable snowman, right?)
The twin little pest on my left foot is rated moderately deformed. Ugh. How did this happen? For some people, it runs in the family. We have a bit of this in our family.
But I confess, for the most part this was a result of years of heels. Most not like the ones pictured, but still quite high and fun. And certainly quite unhealthy for my poor little feet. (Sorry, guys.)
Nobody told me this would happen, until a few years ago when my mother educated me.
Two long, hairy months! My podiatrist told me I can place no weight on the foot and suggested a wheelchair or a little scooter sort of thing to get around.
And the one surgery, because the foot is in such sad shape, will cost $20,000. That’s not a typo.
So girlfriends, don’t say nobody told you.
This, my fabulously dressed divas, is the price of being a high-heel junkie.
May all your shoes be gorgeous, yet comfortable and healthy. And may you be spared High Heel Rehab.