Au Revoir ridiculously high heels!

I don't know if anyone knows this, but I love my 5 inch high heels as much as Victoria Beckham loves a good fake tan and being skinny. Pre-pregnancy, I was all 5 inch heels any time of the day, anywhere - even going to my bathroom, if I felt like it. Exaggerating just a tad. Just.

So during my pregnancy, of course I took a break from anything that lifted me off more than 0.5cm off the ground, to avoid being pregnant roadkill. I lived in flats and my Havaianas. To put it simply, I was NOT a Rachel Zoe. Fast forward nine months later post delivery, I was looking forward to rocking my massive heels again.


Not happening.


My feet are just not having it. It's like they've gone to mommyhood-land and do not want to come back. If my feet were alive, they would be wearing mom jeans and driving minivans. The first time I put on heels was 2 months after giving birth, on the way to a job interview. I nonchalantly slipped on my trusty old pair of black stilettos (after dusting off what looked like a small city of moss) without so much as a thought, attempting to pick up from where I left off. A few shaky steps later, I almost fell face forward. I wobbled like J-lo's ass would wobble on a treadmill. It felt WEIRD. I swear I saw some disapproving glances from onlookers practically thinking aloud "Eh kalau tak reti pakai tinggi-tinggi toksahlah pakai oii". And after a few minutes of clunking about in my heels, my feet HURT LIKE A MOTHER. Pun intended. I mean, when I'm out with Ayden I can kiss my high heels buhbye because it seems almost absurd that I would totter about in anything more than an inch high, because if he's not in his stroller, I am carrying him. And the boy ain't light, let me tell you.


Right, second attempt at wearing heels - bought a nifty pair with a shorter heel (around 3 inches or so) for work, telling myself I could work it, no problem. I mean, if I could endure 23 hours of labour and pop a baby out of me, I'm sure I could get the hang of heels again, right?? Wore them to work, and by 3pm all I felt like doing was hurling the mother effers out the window. I didn't care if they're all patent and delicious looking and look like louboutin replicas - those heels will cause some serious injuries, people! They are a hazard! They will kill you! Seriously, how in the world did I manage back then?? How did I master the act of walking for HOURS in four inch heels without so much as flinching?! Ugh.


Something tells me that I will never be able to re-master this skill. My 5 inch heels that I received for my hantaran (never got a chance to wear them because I got pregnant, like a second after the wedding) will still be collecting dust at the back of my wardrobe. Or the only time I'll likely whip out anything more than a 3 inch heel will be when I know I'll be spending most of the outing sitting down. Like to a wedding or something. Or to raya openhouses, when I'll only wobble to a house and back to my car. Better than nothing right?

There goes my fooling everyone into thinking I'm model height when I'm actually not. Damn.


Sloppy kisses,
'Aainaa