I have a type – stiletto and 4½ inches. There’s no faster way to lower your BMI number then to throw on a pair of heels. I can’t pinpoint exactly when wearing heels became an everyday thing for me, but I couldn’t live without them now. The odd time I’m in flats I always get “whoa, you’re a lot shorter than you seem”. Truth be told, I’m not that short – I’m 5’6”, but when people see you walking around every day at 5’10½” they forget you’re not actually that tall.
So here’s where my height restriction comes in- guys 5’10” and below, need not apply. I can’t date a guy that’s shorter than me; I am an admitted height snob. I do realize that I’m only 5’6” and the heels can come off, I’m not delusional. But here’s the problem; if I dated someone that was say 5’8” for example, sure, in runners when we stood beside each other, totally fine. We could have wonderful dates of nature hikes (fyi- most things that live outdoors, scares the hell out of me) and whatever else it is that people [who wear running shoes on dates] do. But what happens when we have to go to a fancy dinner? I’m in a dress that absolutely requires heels and suddenly I’m Nicole Kidman to his Tom Cruise. Every picture taken would be of me trying to crouch, so as not to appear taller than him.
So you see? It simply doesn’t work for me. I’m not saying I need the guy to be a giant, but he absolutely must be over 5’11” (and handsome...and funny...and be ok with being written about in a blog).
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