On Heels, Power, and the Great Illusion of the Male Gaze
Ah, the eternal refrain: “Men demand it!” I must chuckle. Ladies, it is a shame—no, a tragedy—how much power you grant men in your own minds. You truly believe that if you emerged without heels, without those hazardous spikes beneath your feet, we would scoff as you passed? That we, the supposed arbiters of your appearance, would sneer at the audacity of a flat sole? Let me assure you: the average man couldn’t tell the difference between a stiletto and a kitten heel if his life depended on it.
Ah, heels—the precarious pedestals of the eternal feminine. The other day, despite my best efforts to steer clear of debate, I found myself in an argument with a woman who claimed that heels were a product of male tyranny—an offering to the ever-looming Male Authoritarian Gaze. This supposed phantom of oppression, lurking in women’s thoughts, silently demands no less than six inches of arch with every step. A ghostly council of men, wagging its incorporeal finger and whispering, “Higher, higher, or be cast into obscurity!” Please—give me a break.
The truth, madam, is far less dramatic and far more liberating: most men don’t care. Truly. Not about the height of the heel, the brand of the shoe, or whether you opted for platforms or pumps. What men notice—if they notice at all—is the sum of the parts: the presence, the confidence, the aura of self-possession. A bare foot, a sandal, a flat—none of these would diminish your power. If anything, your allure lies not in the height of your heel but in the strength of your stride.
The Myth of the Male Dictator of Beauty
What fascinates me is not that you wear the heels, but that you attribute their existence to men. You genuinely believe that our supposed dominion over the world extends to the precise angle of your arch? That we sit in our lairs, twirling our metaphorical mustaches, demanding nothing less than your feet perched at a vertiginous angle? Ladies, you wound us with such credit.
The reality is far simpler. The heel is not for us; it is for you. It is a tool you wield, a magic wand that elongates your silhouette and sharpens your posture. You wear it because you know its power, and you wield that power not in servitude to men, but in service of the image you wish to project. And that image is divine.
Liberation Lies in Honesty
The true tragedy, however, is not that you wear heels—it is that you wear them while claiming you have no choice. By framing your elegance, your allure, your mastery of the visual language of desire as something imposed by external forces, you rob yourself of the very agency you so skillfully exercise.
Ladies, the power lies in your hands—or rather, on your feet. You choose the heels. You choose the height, the arch, the sway. And the men? The men are but hapless bystanders, drawn to your orbit by forces they do not understand. They do not demand the heels—they simply marvel at the transformation you create when you wear them.
Take Back the Narrative
So, let us dispense with this myth of male authoritarianism in matters of footwear. Wear the heels, or don’t. It is not the heel itself that grants you power but the confidence with which you stride. Whether in stilettos, sneakers, or slippers, your beauty, your allure, your divine presence is your own creation.
The great irony is this: the power you attribute to men has been yours all along. Stop giving it away. Acknowledge that your heels, your beauty, your choices are not dictated by the Male Gaze but by your own Pursuit of Authority. And if men bow to your presence, as they often do, let them bow not to the height of your heel but to the unassailable strength of your confidence.
So, ladies, take the heel or leave it. Either way, know this: the real power lies not in what men think of your shoes but in the way you walk, with or without them.
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