The last thing I want to do is be taller. This desire to avoid tallness causes me to recoil in horror from the shoes currently in fashion.
They are cute but I don’t want to be six feet fall. Ever.
And I cannot–I will not–tolerate suffering for beauty. I don’t want my feet to hurt. Perhaps this is a sign of old age. I have almost certainly turned into a fuddy-duddy, but I don’t want to hobble around with aching feet.
I have yet to reach that age when I wear only white athletic shoes, however.
I just want to wear my Chuck Taylors.
I do apologize to young whippersnappers for lowering the cool quotient of said shoes. When junior high kids see a woman my age wearing the same style of shoes, they must question their judgment.
Then again, what am I saying? I am utterly invisible to junior high kids.