I’m still wondering what possessed me—last week—to pair that gorgeous, Whistle River, black lace skirt with a pair of kitten heels that hurt my feet. Probably because I still long for the days when I wore heels with almost everything. But kitten heels? Two years ago I was embarrassed to be seen in kitten heels. Now I can’t handle them for more than a few minutes.
When it comes to the evils of aging, I rank painful feet up there with saggy jowls, thinning hair and a vagina as dry as granny’s drawers.