I always admired the skill with which Afghan women navigated the bumpy, rocky streets of the capital in heels regardless of the weather, the terrain or the muddy water that filled the omnipresent potholes. As a stiletto girl myself I thought I could boldly follow in their footsteps as usually my ambles around Kabul were short, and I have gingerly spent the better part of my life finding my way over the cobblestones of London. Life in the Afghan capital was not so easy. Rocks jutted out of the mud surfaced roads, there were no pavements or sidewalks as the Canadian in my still says, and barely an inch of flat surface. It was terrifying to teeter across the road.
Most of the time I had to give in to the practicalities of life and work where I need to be able to walk and so free my bound feet.
Except the first time I met my lovely friend who prefers to remain nameless but who nicknamed me Heidi High Heels, which I loved, and so encouraged me to persist in battle of the spike heels.