Can stilettos really take you to the heights of ecstasy?

Just a fluffy article for the ladies. Take a break from all the seriousness of the usual hard news :smiley:

[size=150]As Christian Louboutin claims wearing high heels boosts your libido, MARIANNE POWER road-tests five-inch shoes to find out if it’s true…[/size]

All my life Ive wanted to be the kind of woman who stops traffic now, at last, it has happened.

Im nearly across the road when I realise Im not going to make it before the traffic lights turn green. I panic and shuffle as fast as I can, but Im too slow. The white van heading my way slams on the brakes and honks his horn at me.

Im sorry! I mouth, while the driver says something in return. I cant hear it through the glass, but I dont think hes telling me how gorgeous I look. By the time I get to the pavement, my heart is beating and my legs are like jelly. No, Im not recovering from two broken legs Im wearing five-inch high heels.

And what a nightmare they are. I like fashion as much as the next girl, but surely the phrase killer heels doesnt imply you have to die in them? It seems that this is the year of the extreme heel with high heels going up to a staggering seven-and- a-half inches.

In fact, the average heel height sold in Harvey Nichols is now 12 cm 4.7 inches while reported a 112 per cent increase in sales of high heels last month. And, to add fuel to the fire, this week shoe designer Christian Louboutin claimed that these heels boost your libido.

Talking about a meeting with a French academic, Louboutin said: She said that what is sexual in a high heel is the arch of the foot, because it is exactly the position of a womans foot when she orgasms.

So when you put your foot in a heel, you are putting yourself in a orgasmic situation.

Ooh, I say! So have I been missing out given that I usually stick to flats? Will a week doing the shopping and running to the bus in sky-scraper heels end in agony or ecstasy?

I decide to find out. For one week, my challenge is to wear nothing but five-inch heels. I will road-test three pairs of shoes from Dune, River Island and a pair by Jimmy Choo which sell for a cool 1,095. For once in my life I will be fashionable and fabulous! Or Ill in A&E with my leg in a cast.

I start off with the Dune pair a black suede court with a slightly platform because the heels are less spindly than the other two. These will ease me in, I think. How wrong can you be?

Just putting them on is enough to throw me off balance. The heel thrusts my body forward so I feel like Im about to topple over head first. The only way I feel steady is to assume a wide-legged John Wayne-like stance.

After a few practise runs around my flat, I venture outdoors. I cross the road and thats when I nearly get run over.

I spend the rest of the day in hiding, too scared to go out and walk in them.
Day two is little better. I head out to meet a friend wearing a pair of red slingbacks with a stiletto heel from River Island.

The shoes are pure Betty Boop. I put them on with a red dress and feel fabulous. Until I start to walk in them. It takes an eternity just to walk down the four steps outside my front door.

Halfway through the walk I grab on to a wall to steady myself and two teenage boys walk past me and snigger. And its not just youths who snigger at me my friend can barely contain her mirth when we meet for lunch…

What are they? she asks as I teeter towards her.
What are what? I ask. She points at my feet.
Theyre shoes, I huff. You look ridiculous, she laughs.
Dont they make me look slimmer? I ask her later.
You look in pain and youre sticking your bum out, so no, she replies.

She has a point. One of the reasons women love heels is that they elongate the body (in my five-inch heels, I tower at 6ft 1in), making it look thinner.
This is true enough when youre standing up straight and looking in the mirror, but when youre walking down the road with your back curved forward, your behind pushed back and your face is a mask of pain, its the opposite of flattering. And I am in pain. After just an hour wearing them the balls of my feet are burning, Ive lost feeling in my toes and my back is beginning to ache.

As the week goes on I get the hang of walking in them, but its exhausting.
I am alert to every crack in the pavement because I know that it will send me off balance and steps are a nightmare unless there is a railing.

My trip to the supermarket wasnt as bad as Id feared I could lean on the trolley to give me stability and reach tins on the top shelf with ease.

I did, however, feel like a total idiot I may as well have been shopping in a underwear for all the odd looks I was getting from sensibly-shod shoppers.

Things improve slightly when I try out the Jimmy Choos. Even in my blistered state I can appreciate their beauty the combination of the soft beige suede and crystal-encrusted heels is about as A-list as you can get. Cheryl Cole has a pair of these; no doubt she wears them on the red carpet.

I wear them to the pub, where its safe to say they get a lot of attention especially from men. I get a wolf whistle on my way in and at the bar one man actually comes up to tell me he likes my shoes.

But the excitement of this new-found sex appeal is short lived. The pub is busy and there are no seats and, after an hour of standing, Im in agony.

On my final day I pop two Nurofen as a pre-emptive strike against the pain and take the Jimmy Choos for a look around the shops.

A sales assistant eyes up my footwear. Are they Choos? she asks. Yes, I reply wearily.

I can see her appraising the mixed messages being sent out by my greasy hair, sagging jeans, non-designer handbag and the spectacular creations on my feet. She might as well have asked What is someone like you doing with a pair of shoes like that? but she resists and instead says: Theyre beautiful.

Now, obviously this is my Pretty Woman moment the moment that us mere mortals dream of happening in a designer shop. But Im so desperate to share my pain that I throw away my advantage.

Theyre not beautiful! I exclaim. They hurt like hell and I cant even walk in them. She looks at me like I am stupid. You are not meant to walk, she says. Theyre taxi shoes.
Shes right, of course.

Tramping around the supermarket this is not the life that these shoes are designed for.

But you know what? As lovely as it might sound to spend your life jumping in and out of cabs, I think Ill pass if it means wearing these heels. These shoes arent glamorous, they are ridiculous. Wobbling on five-inch stilettos made me feel like I was sporting the modern-day equivalent of a corset.

As for the idea that stilettos can take a girl to new heights of ecstasy… take it from me that the only moaning brought on by heels are moans of pain.

Sauce: … stasy.html

although the article is talking about how high heels are terribly uncomfortable, impractical etc, but i really do think girls look good in high heels. i think they make your legs look longer and toned, and they accentuate the money makers (■■■■■ and ass)!!