I wore heels for a day and I don’t know how some girls do it
Six inch heels, he walk in the Guild like nobody’s business
I’ve always admired those girls who strut their stuff on campus – they put us all to shame. Most of us rock up late to our 9am in our school leavers’ hoodie, tracksuit bottoms, and a pair of matching socks if we’re lucky.
Yet, there are these wonderful human beings who always, without fail, arrive in the most beautiful outfit, holding a designer bag and pristine Macbook, towering above the rest of us commoners in their six inch heels. Yes, they may be in pain and are aware of how tall they are but they don’t care, it’s fashion. Even those who walk the length and breadth of campus, clutching a Starbs in one hand and speaking to someone on the phone in the other, they’re not in pain.
I thought I’d see if I can try and possibly work out why girls do this. I’m aware the sight of a man with a beard in heels may be a bit unusual, so accepting the notion that I will be getting a few funny looks throughout the day, I put on my friends’ four inchers and left my house and walked, albeit very slowly, to uni. There has got to be a reason why some girls put themselves through this.
Walking down the steps from my house, I was already feeling the strain and holding onto anything that keeps my body weight upright. However the cobbled street didn’t hold me back and once I got past walking like Bambi on ice with the confidence of a Victoria’s Secret model, I managed to actually get a rhythm going and sashayed to the library to get a few books for the long day of studying ahead. A woman en route giggled at me from across the road – was this a sign of things to come?
Hitting up the Sydney Jones was more of a challenge. Finding books on Che Guevara’s role in the Bolivian war meant that I had to use the special rotating shelves and found myself running in heels for the first time. The shelves were closing in on me as some stupid bitch a couple of rows down didn’t realise I was in them and I had to strut for my life. Thank God I didn’t die a squishy death and both the book and I remained unharmed.
This made me wonder how girls in heels run for the 699 or run to their lecture when they’re late? I struggle to jog 3 metres in trainers let alone battle Storm Angus in the walk from Rendall to Sherrington in a pair of Louboutins.
I was late to my lecture as it took me so fucking long to get there, as a result I decided to work in the Central Teaching Hub on the couches which are almost as sassy as my shoes. I’m getting into wearing them now and find walking in them surprisingly easy. With a Macbook in hand, I was slowly completing the ‘girls who wear heels’ look.
To end the day I visited the Guild for a few cheeky pints. Getting tipsy in heels was understandably a struggle, particularly as the squad found it hilarious to make me get all the drinks and attempt to bring their orders back to the table. More fool them as not only did I keep the drinks in hand, but I proved that I can achieve anything if I just believe in myself – or in the fact that one of my friends would catch me if worst comes to worst.
A few bevs down me, I decided enough was enough and freedom was necessary. Tearing them off and handing them back to my friend, my feet could finally breathe. They deserved it.
But I can’t help but thinking that as a bloke in heels, I am starting to see how girls are judged a lot more harshly than a lad at uni in terms of how they look. There is so much pressure for girls to look a particular way and those who don’t try hard enough are deemed inferior to those who spend 3 hours in front of the mirror. I can walk, literally walk, around campus in my pyjamas and someone can comment about ‘how jokes’ that is, but then if a girl did the same, she’d often be classed as a ‘tramp’ or ‘lazy.’ Shouldn’t we be free to wear what we like? A boy should be able to wear heels just as a girl should be free to wear whatever she damn well chooses to.
I surprised myself by how I could take to walking in them but I guess because it was such an unusual thing for me to do, I basked in the fact that it was a one-off commitment. I could never do it time and time again; give me cosy Superstars or New Balances any day. Shout out to any girl who wears heels on the reg on campus – you deserve the Nobel Prize for dedication to fashion.