Here the translation of my second article on
fashionscene.nl! For all the dutchies, click
here.
Specially for this column I counted my heels. Result? A pair of -somewhat exaggerating- sixty. I wouldn't want it differently though, because heels are always right. Wheiter it are tough boots or cute pumps, they give just that extra touch. Why wouldn't there be hardly any flats on the catwalk otherwise?
As I see people preparing their plasters already... réally: practice makes perfect. A classmate of mine wanted to throw her heels away after the first day already, but nowadays I don't see her on anything different. And I had to be walking on heels once that made me a little frightened as well. It was for a little show and I got the advice to just keep walking on them till the
moment surprème. That's what I did and I went on and walked on them like I hadn't done anything different. Yes, I'm a fervent advocate of heels, and got a special band with them...
I was a girl that didn't walk much later on heels than I could walk. My princessmules -of the cheapest plastic- were just what I wanted. I changed these a few years later for the almost ten sizes too big shoes of my mom, in which I secretly went singing and dancing in front of the mirror till I was way too old.
Yeah, it was early when I felt that sensation when putting on heels: on heels I felt big, tough, feminine. Just innocent childrenplay, my dad thought. A friend of the family was doubting that already: 'my daughter never got the phase you know, the thing with the heels'. She probably presumed what I already knew: I was going to be the new Victoria Beckham.
The story continues when I was at the age of ten. In some cheap shop I saw boots with wedges and it was love at first side. But... such a swingheel under developing feet wasn't supported by my dad of course. I was disappointed!
Though: dogged does it, and so in my first year of secondaryschool I walked on heels. Yeah, there were people who had worries about this. 'Is that kid going to make it?', you could see in other mothers' eyes. There's still admiration as well though... 'how do you keep dribble on them the whole day?', I'm often asked. Well, young practised...
So,
hate it of love it, but let me have emphasized for once and for always that I am never, yes I say néver, going to get enough of heels. So, dear Sinterklaas... 61... 62...