In less than six months from now First Born will be walking down the
aisle toward the love of her life. I tell you this not only because I am at the
point of frequently waking up at 3 a.m. thinking about what has to get done
before then (not to mention the shower a month earlier) and I want to share my
angst. I am also sharing a little known secret, exposing the fact that this is
a serious deadline for me.
I have to learn to walk in heels.
You should know that at one time I was fairly proficient at
the heel thing. That’s not to say I sauntered around in stilettos at any time
in my life, but at least I could say my feet were somewhat off the ground.
These days I am an aficionado of flats like sneakers and LL Bean moccasins.
Even my boots are low to the ground, which is to say that they are of the
practical variety and not the cool styles I envy on the feet of others who trip
by. Not literally – that would be my specialty. It is a simple fact that when
it comes to stuffing my feet into anything that might threaten my balance,
gravity is not my friend.
Many, many years ago I sang in a band and had to wear all
sorts of fancy garb, including dressy heels. Even at the age of 19 I had a fear
of falling. Not just falling down where I stood or tripping as I attempted to
walk. I mean falling, as in, out of a car or off the stage. If I had ever been
one of those dainty fallers I may have been fine with the occasional tilt and
topple. But no, unfortunately I am completely void of all gracefulness at times
like this.
Throughout parenthood I switched to comfort over fashion,
and I have definitely gotten used to it. As long as my kids had cute shoes (and
I wasn’t the best at noticing they even needed new footgear until at least one
toe was protruding) I let them represent the well shod in our home.
Fast forward to today. Pretty soon I’m going to have to
break down and go dress shopping for The Event. I’m excited about that and I
plan to bring at least one cheerleader with me so I don’t talk myself out of everything
I try on. But the shoes are a different story.
Considering my height (or lack of) never topped 5 foot 2
inches and is now in a slow and steady decline with age, it is almost a
guarantee that whatever dress I chose will have to be hemmed. That means by the
time I have an actual fitting I will need to know what my feet will agree to
wear. This is where I admit to the fear that causes my heart (and bunions) to
tremble.
Will the pictures or videos from our daughter’s special day
be an indication that Mom should have stuck with sandals or sneakers under her
ensemble? Should I warn the ushers ahead of time that two of them are required
to walk me to my seat and keep me balanced so the bridesmaids don't have to step
over me? Will the family photos have me stumbling into a perfectly manicured
floral display or disappearing over a slight incline?
I expect nobody will notice since all eyes will be on the
beautiful bride. In the meantime I will work my way up to a slight heel between
now and May, temporarily giving up my flats for a slight, nonthreatening
incline.
But just in case, I think I’ll slip a pair of sneakers under
the reception table.
Your post is deja vu for me. Wear the heels down the aisle, and bring along a pair of comfortable flats for the reception and formal pictures (for the added height if nothing else!). I suggest you bring one friend dress shopping with you - someone you trust to give an honest opinion. And warning: whatever picture you have in mind for a dress, you won't find it. Be flexible!..
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