Are We Ready To Finally Say Goodbye To High Heels After Lockdown?

A couple of weeks ago, one of my friends shared a link to a survey in our group chat in a bid to arrive at a consensus on the date and location of our annual group Christmas lunch.

This group has grown and changed over the years – partners have been welcomed into the fold (and farewelled again), families have grown, and people have moved. The survey was a calculated way of navigating capacity restrictions and venue bookings after lockdown, but it’s also a product of the fact that arranging these group outings is generally like herding cats.

Dates and locations were easy enough to nail down, but buried at the end of the survey was perhaps its most divisive question: “Heels or sneakers?”

This question has been asked countless times in group chats and text messages over the years, but after almost two years of wearing ugg boots while working from home, I was certain we’d all agree to leave heels in the Before Times and ride out the remainder of our thirties in the comfort and functionality of sneakers.

So I couldn’t believe it when the survey-making friend dropped that the results had returned a 50/50 split on the question of appropriate Christmas lunch footwear. There were still a couple of responses to be filed, but it was nowhere near the clean sweep I’d envisioned.

Now, don’t get me wrong: heels are gorgeous and they’ve always been the accessory that brought a “going out” outfit together for me.

But they’ve also inflicted some nasty injuries on my poor little feet and ankles over the years. I’m talking blisters, cuts and bruises so bad I had to wear a pair of Havaianas to work while they healed.

(The offending heels in this particular case were purchased impulsively on the day of the work Christmas party and have sat unworn in my cupboard ever since.)

For that reason, I’d come into this story fully ready to wax lyrical about how heels are dead after lockdown. But in a bid to understand where my friends fell on the return to high-heeled life after the universe basically gave us a pass from ever having to wear them again, I returned to the group chat.

One said, in no uncertain terms, heels are “dead to her”, while those who were already that way inclined cited the aforementioned practicality and versatility of flats, along with the fact that they were “down with the kids”.

(This is likely a reference to last year’s Christmas lunch, where we heel-clad 30-somethings found ourselves surrounded by sneaker-wearing teens. Of course, we joked how we didn’t suffer stilettos for decades so they could show up to the pub in Nike Airs, but also became suddenly self-conscious about our side parts, so we let it slide.)

Those who’d opted for heels said that they missed “going all out” for a night on the town and that finally taking the shoes purchased in the depths of lockdown for a spin represented a fresh start – though some did admit they’d probably regret their choice after a few hours.

One went so far as to say she’d never been a big heel-wearer, but wanted to be after binge-watching The Mindy Project – which makes admittedly sensational sartorial choices – in lockdown.

Others fell somewhere in the middle, saying they’d “continue to wear the shoes that work best with the outfit” or invest in shoes that are comfortable regardless of the heel height.

I can see both sides of the argument. On the one hand, I’m thrilled to be free of the assumption that heels equal effort. But on the other, I can also understand the way strapping on a fresh set of heels symbolises a return to life as we knew it – not because we necessarily enjoyed wearing them, but because they’re synonymous will nights spent dancing or working in an office with people who aren’t your partner/housemate/cat.

Perhaps I haven’t kicked it in a pair of pumps for the last time, but one thing’s for sure: that Christmas party pair are free to a good home.