“Clack clack clack down the hall. Clack clack to her desk and clack clack to the elevator. I fucking hate it. I don’t know why women wear them.”


I was at a friend’s house for a potluck and we were all discussing our day. Most of us worked in an office of some kind. This comment was made by a man.

My response: Just to be clear, we aren’t wearing the heels for you.

Man: But they’re dumb.

Me: Again, we aren’t doing it for you.

Inevitably the conversation went into a massive circle in which the women argued that we don’t wear clothes for men, that his judgment of someone’s character based on their attire was a problem and all manner of feminist preaching.

Inevitably the men weren’t listening and reverted back to arguments about comfort, disdain, the noise, oh lord, the NOISE the shoes made.

The problem with heels isn’t women, it’s actually men.

And the problem with men (aside from adjusting themselves in public, not being defined by their marital status, not being pestered about how many kids they have or plan to have, not being judged for not wanting kids, never having to be terrified about losing a job because of age, worrying about how they’ll get home after work because the streetlamp by the bus stop is out, making less money for doing the same job, having to bust their asses twice as much for the same recognition and a litany of other privileges) is that they still think it’s all about them.