When my fashion-forward daughter received a $40 gift card to a popular shoe store for her 13th birthday, I knew we were headed for a showdown. For two years, we had been at odds over the suitability of sky-high heels—she was all for them, while I remained staunchly against.
A few weeks later, our trip to the shoe store for back-to-school sneakers started off peacefully enough. She quickly grabbed some Nikes, while my husband and son ambled toward the checkout, blissfully unaware of the impending drama.
But hold your horses, fellas.
A quick search of the store led me to find her sprawled on the floor of the clearance aisle, eagerly trying on a pair of five-inch, slingback cork wedge sandals adorned with thick black straps and shiny gold buckles. “Don’t say a word!” she flashed a cheeky grin as she caught sight of me, her expression one of sheer delight. I resisted the urge to help her up, instead watching her carefully rise and glide toward the mirror, where she began her preening session.
This wasn’t our first encounter with the world of high heels. When she was 11, my sister-in-law gifted her daughter a pair of shiny black 6-inch peep-toe stilettos, which sent my daughter into a frenzy of excitement. My husband shot me a bewildered look—one that didn’t fade even after I admitted I had given my stamp of approval for the gift.
“I love them! I look fantastic!” she exclaimed the next day as she clicked across our hardwood floors. “I’m wearing these to dinner tonight!”
“No, you’re not,” both my husband and I said in unison.
“Give me three good reasons why not!” our little negotiator shot back.
“They’re just not… appropriate,” we countered, citing broken ankles and ripped tendons as potential hazards. When that argument flopped, we resorted to terms like “cheap” and “wrong impression,” even awkwardly referencing “ladies of the night.”
Honestly, I felt torn. I didn’t want my preteen leaving the house in stripper heels, but I struggled to find a solid argument against it. She wasn’t going out naked; it wasn’t illegal. They were just high heels, right? In the end, I gave in after my husband left the decision up to me. She ended up wearing those heels out—twice!—once to dinner and once to a play, garnering a mix of quizzical looks and encouraging remarks from adult women who admired her confidence.
Fast forward two years, and there we were again in the clearance aisle. My husband asked, “Are you really going to let her buy those?” Caught between a rock and a hard place, I chose silence, and he left the store.
Later, I explained to him that I said yes because of the look on our daughter’s face as she beamed in front of that mirror. She wasn’t just admiring her feet; she was envisioning her future self and all the possibilities that lay ahead.
I said yes because she has often expressed her frustration about being too old for kids’ fun and too young for adult fun. Those cork wedges represented hope that she wouldn’t be stuck in limbo forever.
I said yes because it was her birthday money, and she deserved the freedom to make her own choices.
I’ll admit, walking through the mall next to my 13-year-old in five-inch platforms does make me feel a tad self-conscious. I can’t help but wonder what other parents think of my decision. But she knows those sandals are a bit over the top, and she’s always prided herself on marching to the beat of her own drum.
The best part? Strolling alongside my suddenly tall teenager, we can’t help but laugh when she reaches for my shoulder for balance. I try to keep a straight face while she throws her arm around my shoulder—over my shoulder, to be precise—and when I roll my eyes, she just giggles.
We both recognize the absurdity of the situation, yet we also see how trivial it all really is, which only brings us closer together.
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In summary, I let my daughter wear those high heels because it represents her confidence, her evolving identity, and her right to make choices—even if they seem outrageous.