▲ Byun Bo-Kyung (bokyungbyun@korea.ac.kr) Senior Reporter, The Granite Tower (GT)

I still vividly remember my first pair of heels. They were opentoed pumps, sleek and black, and most importantly, 13 cm high. I felt great. No longer was I the smallest student in my school. I gallivanted around in bliss—that is, until I lost my balance and fell down a flight of stairs.

After that incident, my mom tried to persuade me not to wear heels with all sorts of reasons. She even went feminist, saying that heels were maleimposed fashion that degraded women into sex symbols at the expense of their own health. But is this really true? Are heels worn merely for the benefit of male eyes?

Of course, throughout history, there were forms of fashion that were indeed purely for the satisfaction of men. Take China’s foot-binding practices, for instance. They first originated as a means for polygamous men to ensure exclusive sexual access to their numerous female consorts. The “lotus feet”—ideally around eight centimeters—crippled women, obliging them to hobble about only at home and remain chaste. And yet countless Chinese women lovingly broke their daughters’ toes and stunted their growth, as lotus feet were prerequisites for finding a husband.

The West was no different. Female fashion in the Victorian era was defined by what was considered ideal in the eyes of male designers, and thus went to great lengths to highlight the two main characteristics of female sexuality—the breasts and the hips. Thus Victorian women drew their corset strings ever tighter. The fact that the overly tight corsets restricted their ability to breathe and crushed their organs mattered little. Those who did not follow the fashion were not simply unfashionable, but considered unsociable and unmarriable.

As time progressed, women began to shed such oppressive male-imposed standards of beauty, freeing themselves from the fashions that subjugated them into secondary, docile positions to men. But high heels, what with all their connotations to sex appeal, have ever remained in favor. This is because heels are far from a by-product of female oppression, but rather empowerment.

Take a look at how heels first came into fashion, for instance. Though literally “high-heeled” shoes were worn by those as late as Medieval Europe, the high heels we commonly think of today first came in style due to Catherine de Medici in the 1500s. Upon being forced into an arranged marriage with the powerful King of France, the plain-looking Italian noblewoman felt extremely unconfident and self-conscious. The fact that the king showered favors upon his significantly taller and prettier mistress Diane de Poitiers while giving his own wife only strictly nominal power did little to help her ego. Thus the woman of less than 150cm decided to use high heels to give her confidence a boost. Armed with her heels, the petite woman eventually dominated French politics for almost half a century.

Admittedly, Catherine’s secret to success probably did not lie only in her heels. But the power of how a mere few centimeters can boost a woman’s feelings of confidence, power, and authority is something that cannot be overlooked. For this reason, women want and choose to wear heels of their own volition. It is herein that heels, despite their dangers to foot health and spine health, are differentiated from other detrimental fashion practices such as foot binding or corsets.

Rather than reduce them to objects of sexual desire, high heels empower women. They embody the freedom of choice contemporary women are given in how they choose to present themselves. They cannot be classified among the long stretch of male-imposed diminutive fashions that have been carried on throughout history.

If the heel-wearer’s appeal as a woman increases as a result of the few extra centimeters, that is certainly a plus—nothing to worry about. Instead, worry about how not to lose your balance teetering down those particularly long flights of stairs in a pair of particularly high heels. Falling down hurts—trust me, I would know.