These boots were made for... combatting sexist oppression

Yesterday in diversity class, my professor led an activity in which we rattled off stereotypes about different social groups.  He handed out sheets of paper with a different identity label written on top, and I laughed as he passed out the papers and handed me the one that said "Gay."  I interpreted this as a sign from the Universe that it knows about my sinful ways.

I was instructed to write for a small group of my peers as we all listed stereotype after stereotype about gays.   After exhausting our knowledge of the stigmas attached to the identity of Gay, I asked my professor "Can I have the lesbians?"

The professor misunderstood my question (which was actually a hope that he enjoyed matchmaking and had hidden some lesbians in the classroom in anticipation of my request), and handed me a new paper that said "Lesbian."  Another group had already gotten us started with a few stereotypes, one of which included 'comfortable shoes.'   Now, while I don't identify as a lesbian, I share some things in common with them (like my interest in women, and evidently, my sensible shoe choices).   Today I was not as in touch with my inner lesbian as I usually am, and I put on heels, breaking my own #1 dressing rule - don't wear heels.

I hadn't worn this particular pair of heels since who knows when.  I discovered them recently as I made progress on unpacking from my move that was nearly 2 months ago.  They look sensible enough, I thought - business casual, closed toe shoes with a maybe 1.5 inch heel.  Not as unreasonable as some pairs of heels I still own from the days in which I hadn't yet done away with my short complex - I sported 3 or 4 inch heels without even flinching nearly every day in high school.  These 1.5 inch heels I braved today have a pink accent on a little black bow, thereby perfectly accenting the pink shirt I wore with a black skirt to work.  I can handle 1.5 inches, I decided, in the name of looking cute today (looking cute is a chore I rarely embrace, so when I'm in the mood to bother trying to look cute I roll with it).

 I quickly remembered why I have a no heels rule - when I wear heels I have the tendency to both hate the sound my shoes make when I walk down tiled or linoleum hallways, AND to curse myself all day as I acquire blisters on my toes.   So, when my 12 hour day ended at 10pm, I was excited to head home, take off my shoes, and promptly put them in a bag of shoes I plan to take to Goodwill as I work to reduce the evils of materialism and consumerism in my life - while refraining from being wasteful.  If someone else wants to succumb to the social pressure of wearing heels and cute shoes that hurt, far be it for me to force them to shell out the cash when I have plenty of uncomfortable (but cute) shoes that can help them accomplish all of their fashion goals while on a budget.

If wearing comfortable shoes is a practice I learned from lesbians - I'd like to thank that entire social group for the contribution they've made to my life.

On my drive home tonight, I realized I needed to make a quick stop at the grocery store.  I was out of coffee, and there's only one thing less tolerable to me than heels: not being caffeinated.  I hobble into the grocery store and towards the coffee beans, but am quickly stopped by a man.

"How do I know you?  You look so familiar." He tells me.
"I've... never seen you before in my life," I say, recognizing that he was probably just trying to find a reason to talk to me since I looked hot in my black + pink outfit with matching black + pink heels.
"Well I'll be honest," he says "I'm hitting on you."

Good for him, I value honesty.

"Are you married?" He asks me.
I stop to ponder for several seconds.  If I say I'm married, I'll be lying.  If I say I'm gay, I'll be lying.  If I say I'm bi but only looking to meet women right now- I'll be telling something closer to the truth - but it won't end the conversation right now so I can go home and sleep.

"Yes," I decide, I am married, though I'm fairly certain my 7 second pause before answering the question suggests I am lying.
"That's too bad.  Can't blame a guy for trying... a pretty little thing like you."
"I guess...." I roll my eyes, turn and start to walk away.

I can have patience with someone who is hitting on me and generally being nice and conversational, but I draw the line when someone calls me a "thing."

Later as I'm finishing up at the checkout line, the man ends up behind me.  I start to walk out of the grocery store with my stuff, when he calls

"Are you sure I can't get your number?"
"Yep," I say without turning around.
"I'll carry your groceries home for you!"
"No."
"I'll even cook you dinner!"
"No, I'm good."

At this point, several cashiers, a security guard, and a handful of customers are all watching me deflect his continued attempts to hit on me, as I walk out the door without turning my back, and his pleas get increasingly louder.   I do not need strangers to cause scenes with me in the grocery store.  My life is not a romantic comedy, and I am not going to change my mind based on his persistence, which frankly I find disrespectful (No means No, anyone??)

Comfortable shoes, I think, as I walk quickly to my car, hoping that I'll be out of the parking lot before persistent man walks out of the store (I was).   Comfortable shoes would allow me to walk quicker, and in less pain, and more importantly, it's easier to move and kick someone in the balls while wearing comfortable shoes.

I need sexy heels to appeal to straight men (a fairly low priority for me).  I need comfortable shoes to walk away from them quickly.  I need heels for making people look at me like a grown up because I'm short and female.   I need shoes that aren't sexy if I want to be taken seriously in a male-dominated workplace.  I need shoes that are sexy enough if I want to be valued in a straight male dominated culture.

Let's pretend for a minute that Nancy Sinatra was singing not about an individual, but about the 'system.' I hope she was right, System of oppression, power, and privilege.  One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.  Better hope I'm not wearing heels that day.