Pretty Heels, Busted Feet: Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them

Let’s play a little game called The Last Time I Wore Ridiculously High Heels. I’ll go first.

The Last Time I Wore Ridiculously High Heels, I was en route to see a band on the LES, mere minutes away from leaving my apartment. Hair, makeup and outfit were doneskies – all I had to do was put on my totally badass DKNY Patent Leather Platform Mary Janes and get out the door.


I’d snagged the shoes a few days beforehand at Second Time Around (the fabbiest, most reasonably priced consignment shop in all of NYC – stay tuned for full-on kvelling). The thrill of scoring a pair of $300 heels for a mere $65 made the question of whether or not I could actually walk in them seem irrelevant. I tried them on and did a two-minute lap around the store. They made my heart sing and my feet say You’ve got to be kidding.

I should have listened to my feet.

Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them is an eye-opener of a book – one I read before I donned those ridiculously high heels (one I WISH I’d read before I purchased them. Obvs.)

Whilst paging through the PDF copy, I found myself in sync with author Leora Tanenbaum‘s feminist take on feminine footwear. Think about why we wear high heels (‘high’ meaning three or more inches). They make us feel statuesque, powerful, sexy and independent… for all of twenty minutes. After that point, our feet start to cramp. Our ankles start to wobble. Our toes ache, our heels blister, our plans get delayed due to an emergency stop off at Duane Reade for band-aids – you know the drill.

The reality of wearing high heels is riddled with irony. You can’t take the subway, you can’t stand for long period of time, you can’t keep pace with your fellow walkers. You’re not fully mobile, so you probably shouldn’t travel alone, because you can’t run away if you get attacked (that’s my New York paranoia talking – whatevs, better safe than sorry).

All the above amounts to high heels robbing you of everything they promise. So why do you still wear them? Why do I?

Pain alone isn’t enough to deter us from shoving our feet into unforgiving footwear, and that’s exactly why Bad Shoes is a must-read. Apparently, high heels compromise more than comfort – worn consistently over time, they compromise the shape and functionality of your feet. Leora’s extensive research in this regard amounts to a big fat CAUTION sign. Her book might not convince you to give up heels altogether, but the personal accounts from women who’ve suffered irreversible physical damage in the name of fab footwear will make you consider wearing them less.

I had the pleasure of chatting with Leora via phone to get the inside scoop on the writing of Bad Shoes. Here’s some snippets from our interview:

So, why shoes? What prompted you to write this book?
I’m forty now, and when I was thirty-eight, my feet started to hurt. I was like ‘Huh, that’s weird’… They hurt even when I wore flip flops or flats. I made an appointment with a podiatrist and got diagnosed with bunions. I’m not the type of person who goes around tottering in high heels every day, so the fact that I got bunions made me think about other women, and what might happen to them. You don’t think that something you wear in the name of fashion could possibly cause harm physically. What I learned was shocking.

Can you wear high heels and still be feminist?
Yes! I would never tell women, ‘Don’t wear high heels.’ It’s just a question of not wearing them all the time. Where the Alexander McQueen Armadillo shoe’s concerned – I would venture to say nobody should ever wear that shoe. Not only is it bad for you to walk in; it’s bad for you to stand up in. Putting aside that extreme, unattainable shoe: If someone wants to wear five-inch platforms for two hours when she’s sitting down eating dinner, fine.

Why do you think women buy bad shoes?
The problem starts with shoe manufacturers. They make the mold too narrow across the board because we, as a culture, have a belief that women’s shoes should look dainty. Manufacturers are scared that if they make shoes that fit women properly, women won’t want to buy them. So it’s not entirely our fault that we buy and wear shoes that are too narrow for our feet. That’s what’s available.

What brands of shoes would you recommend for women who want to wear heels sans damaging their feet?
I’m hesitant to endorse any one brand, because everyone’s feet are shaped differently. Go to a good old fashioned shoe store, get your feet measured, and try on twenty different pairs. Shoes are like jeans that way. Once you find a brand that works for you, stick to it.

Note: In spite of being in agreement with everything Leora said, I still found myself trying to get around what her book makes perfectly clear: High heels are bad for your feet, and the best way to head off permanent damage is to wear them less. Leora didn’t sugar-coat it.

What about orthotics? If you wear orthotic inserts with high heels, does it minimize the damage?
No insert can be a long-term solution. The better approach is to limit wearing high heels altogether.

What if I wear comfortable heels that aren’t higher than two inches?
You might be able to walk around in them all day. Some women have better feet than others. (Long-term effects) sometimes depend on luck and genetics. But the research across the board says…
…that I have to deal with being five two and a half and not wear heels on a regular basis.
Exactly.

The launch party for Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them kicks off tomorrow at Tip Top Shoes, from 6 – 8pm. Stay tuned for the full deets on the event (and on the contest attached to it, which involves winning a free pair of stylish, practical shoes that won’t muck up your tootsies. Yaay!).

While I remain torn between the allure of wearing impractical footwear and the reality of what they do to your feet, I’d be lying if I said Bad Shoes didn’t have something to do with what ended up happening the last time I wore ridiculously high heels.

Cut to me, trying on those badass DKNY Platform Patent Leather Mary Janes, about to take them out for a night on the town. The ankle wobbling started as soon as I put them on. I nearly face-planted on the walk from my bedroom to my bathroom. I ultimately realized that if I wore them out, I’d be too preoccupied trying not to fall on my ass to hear the music, much less have a good time. So I swapped the five-inch platforms for two-inch wedges, trading a painful evening fraught with danger for a fun, carefree night.

I’m still bonkers for the DKNYs. Whether or not I’ll ever be able to walk in them is another matter.

I figure I’ll take Leora’s advice and wear them out to dinner… where I’ll probably face-plant en route to the bathroom.