High Heels & Me

I have a confession to make. I can’t wear stilettos. Hmm. I hope this admission won’t get kicked off the blog today. Perhaps it will help if I say that my sleuth in POSED FOR MURDER and DEAD IN THE WATER wears heels? I’ve tried to wear high heels, but I always feel like I’m walking on stilts. I’ve seen women who strut around in their heels looking sexy and strong. Unfortunately I just wobble along, and fifteen minutes into the evening ache all over.

Living in New York, an uncomfortable pair of shoes could absolutely ruin my entire day (or week, if they ripped up my feet enough). Walking absolutely everywhere on hard and unforgiving pavement, it was comfortable shoes all the way. Stilettos were, my friends and I fondly liked to say, “taking a taxi shoes.” I don’t think the women in Sex in the City ever tried to run for an N train in their sexy stilettos. They would have ended up with one of those shoes stuck in a grate and a sprained ankle – or worse.

My contentious relationship with heels began when I grew to be five foot four in the 5th grade. All the boys were six inches shorter. So my first pair of heels was just ½” high. I still felt like I was towering over everyone. I grew to be 5’8” but I frequently have people ask (or assume) that I’m taller. Good posture, I guess. It’s certainly not because I wear heels.

Occasionally when I go to speak to a group that’s read my book, I get a funny look. I usually have a good idea why. They’re expecting me to be a twenty-something, funkily dressed artist—just like my sleuth. But Lydia McKenzie and I are pretty different people. She’s young and single, and I’m married and have a child. She lives in Brooklyn, and I’ve moved back home to Virginia. She’s a photographer, and I’m a filmmaker turned novelist. And Lydia always wears crazy vintage clothes.

I’m not a dull dresser at all. I enjoy clothes, and love to shop at second hand stores. I love fabrics and color, and putting on outfits in the morning. But I like to be comfortable, too. There has to be an inner beauty that shines through when your toes can breathe, your arches are supported, and you don’t feel like you’re going to sprain your ankle when you take a step. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

So will Lydia ever learn to tone down her clothes? She’s a fictional sleuth, so she can walk on the wild side. She’s looking for murderers with her camera, stumbling over dead bodies, and running for her life, so wearing heels seems pretty safe in comparison. Besides, she can always kick them off now and then and give her feet a rest. That’s what I would do.