New York: How it Chews, Spits Out My Feet

“Princess feet.” “Suburban feet.” “Feminist Whiner.”

No, I can’t just suck it up. Why oh why do women’s shoes so often turn into torture devices? Why does walking a mile in tiny kitten heels (for chrissakes) in New York City do this to my feet? (Warning: Not for the faint-hearted feet owners out there.)

My poor feet

Yeah, ouch. That thing on my toe is where the leather actually ground into my blister. I’m wearing five Band-aids today, because I also have 4 other blisters on the sides of my feet. I spared you from those photos. You’re welcome.

This crime scene pretty much means I can’t wear anything strappy on my feet for at least three days, and it’s 90 degrees outside, people. I do not want my feet clad in sneakers, but there is no way, until they heal, that I will risk the grime of NYC streets to come into contact with my open wounds.

And yeah, this pretty much means I’ll never win the truly batshit insane High Heel Race.

(Sure, it’s a rather dumb complaint, in light of other family and world events. I just wanted to complain today.)

5 thoughts on “New York: How it Chews, Spits Out My Feet

  1. mmalan says:

    The Band-Aid company has a product called Blister Blocker. It’s excellent for existing blisters AND for preventing them in blister-prone places. It’s expensive, though, and can be hard to find.

  2. DKN says:

    owie. i try not to buy the shoes, for sure. but i’ve bought shoes that I thought would be fine that then turned out to be moonlighting as meat grinders.

  3. Betty Victory says says:


    Love the phrase “moonlighting as meat grinders”. I know exactly what you mean. No one wants to go shoe shopping with me. Out of about 100, I might buy one pair. Talk about the princess and the pea.

    Mama Betty

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