Posted by: littlegirlyone | July 19, 2007

girl watcher

i’ve had the good fortune to receive a few writing assignments lately. this was the first one i got, and i hope it will be the first of many. the assignment was to notice how women walk in high heels. i spent a lunch hour in downtown doing just that. here is what i saw.


i left my office rather flustered. i was hungry, which added to the head-spinning sensation. i stopped at a little cafe nearby, with outdoor tables and shade umbrellas. because i was an hour and a half past lunch hour, there were plenty of available seats.

i put on my sunglasses. i didn’t want to be obvious.

i noticed movement of hips; there is something like a bounce and a twist. it’s cute. i thought mostly about how it feels to walk in heels, and how i’ve noticed the bouncy sensation before. i thought about why that might be. i’ve decided that it must be a natural compensation for being slightly off-balance. this explains why the higher heels create more bouncy twist in the girl, and also why wedges (being more stable, and therefore throwing the girl less off balance) create less.

i felt introspective. the entire time i was waiting for my food, and eating, i was making observations behind my sunglasses. at times, i felt humorously dirty watching all these ladies walk by me, and occasionally turning my head to watch their ass.

i noticed that a lot of women wear ugly comfy shoes, and i felt self conscious about all the ugly shoes i’ve worn in my life because they were comfy. although, i’ve managed to steer clear of the most egregious offenders: Tevas and Birkenstocks. i swear, those shoes are the absolute worst – they make my feet look like giant Sasquatch paws (and i only wear a 7, so that is a feat!) i felt unmistakably grateful for my Birkenstock-free fashion record.

i didn’t see that many women wearing very high heels, at least, not while i was eating. after i finished, i took a short walk around a little park across the street from my building. of course, walking in heels after having spent the better part of an hour watching other women walk in heels was an exercise in self-awareness. i felt watched, especially since i’d now noticed high heeled women were a minority. i enjoyed feeling self-aware just because of my shoes, in sort of the same way i enjoy turning heads on a particularly good day.

in the park, i saw the prettiest young woman sitting on a bench. she was wearing a summer dress and at least 4 inch heels. she was young, or at least, she looked young, with pale, clear skin and long auburn hair. her eyes were light blue, very striking, but in a completely innocent way. i cursed that she was sitting, and started to walk around a central statue to slyly look at her again. then, to my great happiness, she stood and sauntered off on her cell phone, completely oblivious to the girl staring at her ass as she walked away. . .


  1. A nice piece of writing, perceptive and entertaining. We look forward to reading more of your assignments.

  2. you read this to me over the phone. and i found that i have the same impression about it– i think i even notice it moreso reading it myself than having you read it to me– your words and phrases are so much more carefully measured in this post than any other.very interesting. 🙂

  3. very nice lg.perceptive and reflective….what is your next assignment?

  4. i did manage to get another assignment. we’ll see if i’m permitted to blog about it. but i’m glad you all liked this one, and i’m sure i can use your interest to persuade the assignor to give me more 🙂

  5. lg,i agree with meg about the carefully measured part. Is there any reason why that is?

  6. to be honest, i edited this piece quite a bit before submitting it originally; i posted it verbatim. i’m not positive why, besides my style editing, this piece is so measured. my guess is that because the original assignment came from someone who inspires precision, i wrote carefully in response.usually, i edit my blogs only for form, and leave the style rambling/ confessional. perhaps i should edit more . . .?

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