From Heels to Eternity

Hello world!

Sorry it's taken me a little while to upload the necessary sequel post.

It's been a mad week, with the onset of a new school term, little Rose's impending Birthday and my ongoing battle with the arctic like temperatures of 'sunny' Canberra.

Continuing with the aesthetical (I'm not sure if that's not a word but stay with me) theme from my last post, this week I want to share my obsession, or lack thereof, with high heel shoes. You see I come from a tribe of high heel wearers.

My mother and sister have always worn high heels and have a collection to rival Imelda Marcos. Well certainly one to make her proud.


A selection of Mother and Sister Rose's favourite heels
Even little Rose rocked her first pair when she was 2 years old. And before you start getting lurid visions of American style baby beauty queens, no I did not let her out of the house, and yes they were the plastic kind from Big W. So given my bloodline you'd expect I'd be cut from the same cloth right? WRONG.

For reasons probably only known to Freudian therapists, I have never understood womens affinity with high heels. Maybe it's the whole woman/child thing (as in I still don't feel 'grown up' enough to wear high heels) but something about the whole exercise screams "woman torture".

I mean really, fancy walking around in a contraption that places your feet at a 90 degree angle and causes ghastly blemishes like bunions and blisters. Well fancy you do it seems.

Anecdotal evidence (meaning a quick whip around the family and the office) indicates I am clearly in the minority. Most women I know, including said mother and sister adore high heels. As my by-line says I am a lover of fashion and can certainly understand the pleasing aesthetic of a high heel. Just don't try to get my foot into one.

In fact, I am so much of an outsider in my family that once I actually lied to my mother about what shoes I was wearing to an engagement party. I walked out of the house seemingly wearing my beautiful cream Molliny pumps (which I've worn a total of three times in the last four years), but as soon as I got in the car, I promptly threw them in the back and changed into (in my view) my far superior and much more comfortable Witchery flats.

So while the rest of the ladies at the party trotted along in their elongated heels and waited for the inevitable pain that comes with combining heels, dancing and drinking, I boogied the night away, a foot shorter than everyone else but happy knowing I'd be 'foot loose and pain free' the next day.
 
So over to you, are you a high heels kinda girl/ or do you infinitely prefer the comfort of flats?

And for you blokes out there (I highly doubt there any blokes reading my posts you never know) do you prefer your ladies in heels or flats or do ya just want us to stop asking whether our bum looks big and get back to playing Angry Birds?

 

I may not covet high heels but scarves are another matter entirely.... 

Couture and Culinary update

Lovely handmade earrings (present from Miss E)

Delicious cupcake from Cherry Seed, Gold Creek Village