I know at least two folks sent me — Tricia, and someone else [Lisa?], feel free to step forward in the comments — and, well, wow.
These would be so much fun to pair with a stunt dress … you know, if I had a spare (!) plus whatever it costs these days to hire four strong men to carry you on a litter. Because they’re also FOUR INCHES HIGH (100mm). (For what it’s worth, I do have a couple of pairs of which I wear on occasion. Occasions where I will be mostly sitting down, which are fewer and farther between these days.)
The older I get the more I value mobility over beauty (perhaps I’ve come to believe there’s more beauty in mobility?). Last Tuesday (according to my ) I walked more than ten miles; last Wednesday more than seven, and on both days that walking time was prime thinking time, and I was thinking about something other than “jeez, my feet really hurt!”
Late last Wednesday night, round about mile 6, I passed a well-dressed couple on the street and overheard the woman say to the man, “I don’t think you have any idea of how much my feet hurt right now!” When I looked at his impatient face (and his comfortable shoes) it was clear that he didn’t. And her shoes weren’t anywhere near this high.
Let’s have a poll!