High Heel Torture

Women cast off their corsets long ago, yet high heels - which make it just as hard to move freely - keep getting more precarious. Read more.

The last time I wore really high heels was at a wedding in Toronto. I stood around eating hors d'oeuvres and drinking champagne. This activity led, inevitably, to frenzied dancing. I found myself limping back to the hotel room in such pain that I was forced to shed the shoes and walk down Yonge Street in pantyhose-clad feet. "Never again," I swore to myself. I am short and heels make me look more statuesque; they give my stumpy legs an almost shapely look but I can no longer put up with the pain they inflict. There are myriad articles on the internet outlining methods of coping with high heel pain. They can all go straight to hell. I've broken the high heel habit and have embraced walking shoes with a passion heretofore reserved (circa 1970) for a combination of a cute boy with a Beatle haircut and a tab of MDA.