Red Stilettos? Not with MY Feet!
By Kay Kendall
Darned good thing I’m not required to wear stilettos to be part
of this magnificent gang of writers. I’m tall, two inches shy of six feet, and
have no need whatsoever for sky-high heels. And to boot (hee hee) I don’t wear red
shoes—or any other bright color. Nature gifted me with rather large feet (ahmm)
in order to balance my height.
of this magnificent gang of writers. I’m tall, two inches shy of six feet, and
have no need whatsoever for sky-high heels. And to boot (hee hee) I don’t wear red
shoes—or any other bright color. Nature gifted me with rather large feet (ahmm)
in order to balance my height.
Nancy, my pal since kindergarten, always teases me about my
foot size. I reply I’d tip over if they were small, or average, in
length. That’s a sensible view—all of me should be in proportion. But
recently I saw actress Brooke Shields interviewed on TV when she
divulged an odd factoid. Though she’s six feet tall, her shoe size is a seven. She concluded, “Therefore I often fall over.” I raced to phone Nancy to tell her that my opinion had been validated. (Inquiring minds might like to know my own size rhymes with the number seven.)
foot size. I reply I’d tip over if they were small, or average, in
length. That’s a sensible view—all of me should be in proportion. But
recently I saw actress Brooke Shields interviewed on TV when she
divulged an odd factoid. Though she’s six feet tall, her shoe size is a seven. She concluded, “Therefore I often fall over.” I raced to phone Nancy to tell her that my opinion had been validated. (Inquiring minds might like to know my own size rhymes with the number seven.)
Despite my flippant answer, I’m not fond of my feet. They
often don’t even seem to belong to me, lurking at such a far distance from my eyes.
My feet seem almost alien. This probably relates to the fact that I once had
difficulty finding shoes to fit me, back when larger sizes for women were
uncommon and I would end up buying ill-fitting footwear. Consequently my feet
always hurt.
often don’t even seem to belong to me, lurking at such a far distance from my eyes.
My feet seem almost alien. This probably relates to the fact that I once had
difficulty finding shoes to fit me, back when larger sizes for women were
uncommon and I would end up buying ill-fitting footwear. Consequently my feet
always hurt.
Style wise I also took what I could get. My shoes were never
stylish and always in somber colors. In my first job after grad school, my
employer was hosting a fancy dinner. One of my coworkers wanted to know what I
was wearing—answer: blue—and then what color shoes I would wear. When she heard I
could choose either black or brown shoes, she was stunned, insisting I had to do better than that. She set to work on me, getting me to upgrade to fancier footwear. My fascination with
more interesting shoes dates from that point in time—30 years ago.
stylish and always in somber colors. In my first job after grad school, my
employer was hosting a fancy dinner. One of my coworkers wanted to know what I
was wearing—answer: blue—and then what color shoes I would wear. When she heard I
could choose either black or brown shoes, she was stunned, insisting I had to do better than that. She set to work on me, getting me to upgrade to fancier footwear. My fascination with
more interesting shoes dates from that point in time—30 years ago.
creep into my husband’s space. The colors range more widely—showing a
partiality to gold and blue. Nevertheless, you still won’t find a heel higher
than two inches, or a pair that is red. Some things never change.
Meet the author
Kay
Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and now writes mysteries
that capture the spirit and turbulence of the sixties. A reformed PR executive
who won international awards for her projects, Kay lives in Texas with her
Canadian husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to
her bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan
buff. In 2015 Rainy Day Women won two
Silver Falchion Awards at Killer Nashville. Visit Kay at her website < http://www.austinstarr.com/>or on Facebook < https://www.facebook.com/KayKendallAuthor>
Kay
Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and now writes mysteries
that capture the spirit and turbulence of the sixties. A reformed PR executive
who won international awards for her projects, Kay lives in Texas with her
Canadian husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to
her bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan
buff. In 2015 Rainy Day Women won two
Silver Falchion Awards at Killer Nashville. Visit Kay at her website < http://www.austinstarr.com/>or on Facebook < https://www.facebook.com/KayKendallAuthor>
Oh, my, I feel your pain, Kay! My feet are wide and when you add bunions to the mix, it doesn't make for fun shoe shopping. I keep praying that shoe companies will get the message that not all women have skinny little feet!
oh yes, Shari, when our feet hurt we are miserable. Now that I can find lots of size 11, my feet are much happier, although like you my feet are wide, mine across the toes. I would happily chop off my little toe on my right foot, which is half a size larger than the left, by the way. But I can cope now, so much better than when I squeezed into size 10s–and even those were hard to find twenty years ago. I am glad that younger women have made comfy shoes more acceptable because now there is so much more choice. Stilettos make a great murder weapon though, tee hee. That of course is for our fiction!
Hi, ok.
I have apache feet. Small narrow heels and wide platypus looking toes. So my shoes slip off my heels. It's a pain. I feel you.Juliana