What a fascinating topic. Now, as I’ve said, it’s folly to consider what I would do if I were a completely different person, but yet I really want to say: 'No, not me, I’d go all out on the heels. And while I’d be at it, I’d hone my femininity to nasty-sharp edge. I’d want to be a bombshell.
Now why do I feel so hell-bend on making this point? Is it jealousy, because I am not a male bombshell and even if I were it would be -as as a man- much more inconsequential? Really, maybe it’s spite over having been on the receiving end of manipulatively used weapons-grade femininity.
Maybe I’m jealous that there is no male counterpart for the sexual fascination of high heels.
Maybe heels are just sexually fascinating, and that’s the only thing giving wings to this conversation.
[sigh] Anyway, oh, sex driven hominid brain (of mine) don’t you have anything else to do?
