Praise for the Princess of Pointy Pumps

After King Charles ascended the throne, his daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Stilettos, became known as Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Pointy Pumps. All hail, the High Priestess of High Heels.

Of course, I’m talking about Catherine, the Princess of Wales, the international fashion sensation; she of the megawatt smile, shiny chestnut locks, and impossibly tiny waist. 

I’m most impressed with how this elegant package of perfection rocks high heels. Catherine glides with preternatural grace on towering stilletos. 

Not only can she stop the show on the red carpet, she easily negotiates centuries-old cobblestones, dirt trails, snow-dusted sidewalks, grass, gravel, sewer grates, airplane stairs, and she even sticks the landing after careening down a playground slide. I once saw footage of her shoveling dirt at a groundbreaking ceremony in cashmere and high heels.

Only the Princess of Pointy Pumps can carry a fussy child after a long flight, squat down in six inch heels on the windy tarmac to admonish the elder heir who’s on the verge of a meltdown, before rising to her full height with a baby on her hip to shake hands with an awaiting head of state. All without a trace of unsteadiness, all while looking fabulous. 

Princess of Wales

All hail, the High Priestess of High Heels. 

What’s her secret? Was she born with perma-tiptoed Barbie feet? Does she ever kick off her shoes at night and soak her feet in a warm epsom salt bath? Do royal medical professionals tend to her screaming metatarsals, shortened calf muscles, nascent bunions, and lower back pain? I can’t picture it. I think she grocery shops and cooks in high heels.

I wish I could wear pointy pumps for special occasions and look good doing it, not like a five year old playing dress up in her mommy’s closet. With my rump sticking out as counterweight, I’d lurch unsteadily from point-to-point like an extra in the “Thriller” video. So clutching and clumsy. So NOT to the manner born.

No, I’ve reconciled my peasant ankles to the ignominy of kitten heels and chunky slingbacks. I once wore ballet flats to a wedding, claiming the mother-of-the-bride advised it because the ceremony was outdoors. I’m sure the prospect of a few rocks and mole holes wouldn’t have stopped the Princess of Pumps, but she’s in a league of her own. She’s willowly and graceful. She’s sample-sized and everything looks superlative on her.  

Catherine, from the grounded comfort of my trainers, I genuflect to your Gianvito Rossis. I bow to your Manolo Blahniks. I curtsy to your Jimmy Choos. You’re the epitome of aspirational style and sophistication.

Long live the Princess of Pointy Pumps!

  

Marna Ashburn is the creator of “Chronicles of Marna.” 

Read her full bio. 

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