Variants of car max nissan….

Exactly and that’s why I will not wear them or have a job that requires that I do. I do not understand why it is so hard for women to understand that if their job requires that they go around crippled and effectively unable to defend themselves, or run from a burning building that maybe something is wrong with that job.

Dress and high heels: the precription for total vulnerability, discomfort and potential harm just to give ‘eye candy’ to some asshole.

I have known plentry of women throughout my years that have stood there and told me they ‘love’ wearing heels and it doesn’t bother them. In fact, the last person to profess this to me also said to me one day, “You’re not like other women, you’re not as feminine and are pretty low maintenance.”

Fuck yeah. I ceased thinking I had anything worthy to do with someone who would question my ‘femininity’ based on what I wore.

I have a career, my own business mind you, in which I don’t have to wear anything but what I damn well please to wear and it is comfortable along the lines of steel toe boots or Doc Martens and if I need to kick some ass I will and most men know I am not an ‘ass’ to be played with.

hedonistic says:

“I’m a feminist with much radical rustling in my brain… But I know if I toe some imaginary radical feminist line, sensible shoes and all, I ain’t gettin no fucking tiara at life’s end. And unless we remote patriarchy-blamers take up a collection, Twisty ain’t gettin no tiara either. Patriarchy will fuck us all over regardless. ”

(sorry girl you asked for this ass whippin’ to set you straight)

Girl! Let lose and live!

1) Who the fuck wants a goddamned tiara? Isn’t that something that princes and kings put on good little princesses for being such good obedient quiet princesses?

Crise, when I got custody of my three kids (my ex had my generosity so he could play parent for two years), the godbag bitch girlfriend of my godbag husband gave my youngest daughter a tiara and had her parading around in it, all the while calling her ‘princess’ all the time. She couldn’t speak up for herself and had a horribly low self image, promulgating the princess myth didn’t help things. First order of business: Throw away the tiara thing pronto!

No thanks.

2) There is no imaginary radical feminist line to tow girl. That’s what the patriarchy wants you to think; ‘oh what a bunch of foolish girls they are, playing their little games and making up all that-a fuss like that.’ Women don’t just image their radicalness, it is borne of the reality of the patriarchy.

I mean being sick and damn tired of the majority of the population being abused, objectified, raped, villified, starved, humiliated, held hostage, killed or whatever just because they are women and knowing the social construct you live in (as a woman) supports and condones it kinda gets you radical if you think about if very long.

3) “Patriarchy will fuck us all over regardless.” So you don’t believe in making small change by example? You’d rather suffer and give in to the powers that be and support, by your complicity, the very activities and idealogies you claim to not support? That by your very actions you hold yourself out as an example to young women and girls everywhere that supporting the patriarchy is the way to go?

I guess you’re also one of those women who always secretly amazes that I’m in a non-traditional field — and how they couldn’t do it because, well, I’m different than them. In other words, us ‘radicals’ and those of us out to make change have sacrificed our womenhood that you still hold onto.

Only because you hold so tenaciously and fearfully to an ideal of womenhood defined by generations of men who want to control you and me.

Now there, stop it and be true to yourself and be radical.

The closer to the front desk a woman is, the more likely she is to wear nylons and heels. That’sd the way it is. Heels are a way of apologizing for being female and “trying to fit the mold” in a business context, or at least any heel over about 1.5″ is.

Any woman who thinks that wandering around in stilettos will get her “respect” is kidding herself. She’s been brainwashed into believing that if she just plays the game even harder and is a good girl like Daddy says, that the patriarchy will finally approve of her. It won’t.

Stop worry about your fucking SHOES and do your fucking JOB. If these wannabes worried half as much about how to ask for a raise at they do about whether they should wear the slingbacks or the stilettos, their careers’d be a lot better off, even buried by the rubble of the patriarchy as we all are.

I mean, I know the patriarchy blows chunks for us all, but can we PLEASE lose the bullshit that says that if we’re just good enough little girls and play by the rules that Mr. Sir will like us at last?

I’m a feminist with much radical rustling in my brain. I could easily go the Twisty route (I’m bald, even!): Pack my shoes away in a dark closet, cleave to my birkenstocks and pack boots (I’ve got ‘em) and say “Fuck it, I refuse to appear in any way pleasing to the Patriarchy, on Feminist Principle.”

But I know if I toe some imaginary radical feminist line, sensible shoes and all, I ain’t gettin no fucking tiara at life’s end. And unless we remote patriarchy-blamers take up a collection, Twisty ain’t gettin no tiara either. Patriarchy will fuck us all over regardless.

So, given reality, why deny myself the - - ahem, excuse me - - hedonistic pleasure of 200 pair kick-ass pair of heels?

And for the love of god Twisty, what’s your shoe size? If you are a 6 1/2 I’ll buy your 1000 pair offa ya.

http://tinyurl.com/9axue

the first couple look interesting. I leave further searches as an exercise for the reader.

Sexy in the office? These days, when I get too many unannounced office “visits” from certain men, I don’t take off my adorable Manolo heels; rather, I take off my WIG. It scares them.

Unfortunately, if anyone out there thinks their flat “sensible” shoes allow patriarchy-loving men to “respect” them, well, I’m just sorry. They don’t respect you and they won’t, not ever. So wear what makes you happy and comfortable, even if it’s stillettos. It just doesn’t matter.