“I don't know who invented high heels, but all women owe him a lot”
~ Marilyn Monroe
You're quite right. We can't ever repay the debt we owe him. However, lately I've been known to show my appreciation towards people I love by strangling them with their own intestines. They always seem to get how much I care, once I do that – They turn blue with gratitude. Do give me a call if you're interested.
So, folks, I quite obviously wore the heels.
I can't say it was awful, per se.
You be the judge.
30 minutes through the wedding:
My toes felt so scrunched up I worried I'd have to get them amputated.
This just proves my point, really:
Wearing heels is going against nature, and an unnatural position to put your body through.
3 hours through:
I'd stumbled quite often, but both my ankles are fine and unsprained :)
I did have an accident though. Well, two accidents, actually. Not my fault though. Well, the second one wasn't.
I tripped on my own feet (nothing new). I didn't fall, but my right foot's heel went into my left foot and left a deep gash there. It didn't hurt much, though……
Well, that brings us to Accident #2.
It was time for the buffet, and people were swarming around the salad bar like caged animals that were just set into the wild. This lady bumped into me (and not vice versa, I swear), and her salad-dressing-drenched spoon went flyyyying in the air……
I saw it all happen in slow motion, and I could honestly hear horror music playing in my head…...
Because the spoon was slowly descending…
Towards my left foot……...
Right on the deep deep gash.
It burned like Dante's Inferno for around 5 minutes. But then I was fine.
5 hours through, at 3 am (welcome to the world of Saudi weddings):
I just couldn't care less. I kicked my heels off and passed out on a couch, jumping awake every 5 minutes when the kids kept throwing water-soaked roses at me.
I wish they didn't like me so much. I should start being mean to them.