I’ve had these high heels for almost four years. I bought them in Scottsdale, Arizona, during a Christmas visit with Mike’s family. I also bought my first and only pair of Ugg boots and a pair of Steve Madden pointed flats. These are the only shoes to survive that long.
A year after I called these shoes mine, Mike and I were married and pregnant. A few months later, I gave birth to Nathan and then graduated from college. I wore these on my graduation day and bowed on the stage when they broadcasted my name along with my collegiate accomplishments, as well the line I scribbed on the card I gave the announcer: “She also gave birth to a baby boy four weeks ago.”
I prefer a pointed toe. It makes it easier to pick up things in corners.
I’ve worn these shoes to parties, bars, interviews, jobs, baby showers, weddings, dates with my fiancé-turned-husband, etc.
Once Mike held my hand as we crossed the street and the heel got stuck in the street grating. He continued walking for a second, dragging me along and leaving my legs spread across the pavement, my feet stuck awkwardly from each other while passerbys watched some foolish woman in a fancy dress extract herself from city property.
I don’t know why I’m being hit with these flashbacks, only that it’s Friday, the sun is shining and I like where these heels have taken me.