Adventures at Midlife

Platform shoes, all the rage in the Seventies and again today, looked even better in the Thirties (think film noir) and in the French courts of the 18th century (think curly wigs, tapestry coats and ridiculous shoes). Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

Why we continue to wear these potential ankle-twisters is beyond me, but there you go. My 5’2″ friend wore her black platform sandals so continuously that her hip flexors popped out of place and she had to have physical therapy. (But she was taller! And fabulous!)

The pair pictured above resemble a pair of white platform sandals I wore for years, although mine weren’t quite that cathouse skanky. (These look like the ones worn by the reverend’s wife, who finally took a shotgun to him rather than wear them again.) I ultimately redyed mine (to cover up all the scuff marks) and wore them at my wedding. They were my “something old.” (The Spouse was 6’3.” He was the “something new.”)

I haven’t owned a pair since.