Waving Good-bye to High Heels

I don’t normally post about fashion – I am not a great one for following the trends and I am happiest sitting around in my comfies and fluffy bathrobe. But, occasionally, I like to get dressed up and make an effort, especially for special occasions, such as New Years Eve 2016.  I bought myself an out-of-my-comfort-zone new black lace top, which I love, went dark with the eye make-up (‘why are your eyes so black, Mummy?’) and went to a house party to celebrate the dawning of the new year.

And this is where this post comes in.  Whilst there, I couldn’t take my eyes off my friend’s gorgeous, sparkly, silver high heels.  She looked amazing, swanning around her kitchen in the perfect mix of casual (jeans) with glam.  And I was so jealous.  Anyone who knows me may be surprised.  I am of the cherry-red Doc Martins era – a 90s child who was happiest in clumpy boots and Pearl Jam t-shirts.  My 20s saw a brief foray into heels as I suddenly discovered my girlie side, but these were subtle, with me not really wanting to stand out from the crowd.  My early 30s were baby filled – my days spent wearing trainers with only occasional nights out that warranted the wearing of heels.  I do remember seeing my sister wearing some gorgeous, black, subtly sparkly heels one Christmas when I was pregnant with my daughter and I vowed I would get them in the sales…and I did.

Those shoes now stare at me teasingly, taunting, every time I open my wardrobe door.  You see, my sudden inability to walk in heels was, looking back, one of the first signs that something wasn’t quite right with my body.  I have written before about how my MS symptoms gradually started emerging, after 18 years of having so-called ‘benign MS’.  Well, in hindsight, my difficulties walking in heels, with my left ankle continually over turning, was perhaps a subtle clue as to what would be happening to my balance and coordination over the coming years.  This difficulty eventually became so pronounced that I never did get to wear those heels.  I keep them for the purposes of admiring, wishful thinking and dress-up (my daughter Ava, not me).  Ava always asks if she can have them when she is older… I often wonder whether she will still want them when she is older (I remember lusting after some black patent 80s heels of my Mum’s, when I was Ava’s age), but I am happy to keep them for her.

So, even though I was never a massive shoe-lover, I now torment myself with looking at shoes that I can never wear – a bit of ‘heel porn’, if you wish.  It sounds mega depressing and defeatist, but I sometimes console myself with the idea that, if I end up needing to use a wheelchair more permanently in the future, at least I can cheer myself up by having fabulous shoes that I otherwise wouldn’t be able to wear.

In the meantime, I am on the look out for dressy, sparkly flats (preferably with straps so they don’t fall off) – does such a thing exist?


11 thoughts on “Waving Good-bye to High Heels

  1. Amazon has a couple of glittery flats with straps, found 1 on page 2 with search terms “women’s glittery flats” they have a low rating though (only 1 customer review, they were sent the wrong size), they do come in silver & gold tones (some other less glittery colors too) & another pair on page 3 that come in 4 different sparkly colors, it’s also rated low (the reviewer says they don’t look as pictured & the material is cheap & uncomfortable, so I really don’t recommend those) – if you look hard enough (be certain of your size, or even measure your feet carefully for conversions, when ordering online)


  2. Although I have never worn high heels, this sure is a good description of how we cannot walk well with certain symptoms of MS. I have two very cute half boots with about an inch heel. I have a lot of support in the ankle, but even walking with a 1 inch blocky heel is difficult with drop foot. I’m so much more stable with an athletic shoe. They really don’t go with professional wear. But I’m not working, so I guess that’s really not a big deal. It would be nice to be able to have a dressy look once in a while though.


  3. I have a beautiful black suit that was tailored for me in India and I just can’t wear something so precise and fragile anymore, so it goes into vacuum-pack. I told my son that its his when he is 16….


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