Ode to a Heel Fetishist

I read a fairly odd article online today about at heel fetishist who attacked women as they walked along and mugged them for their shoes. He would leave the woman traumatised and utterly bewildered (doubtless preparing herself for the worst kind of assault imaginable on a woman only to be baffled by the draught on her toes all of a sudden) while the twenty-something man scampered off to sexually gratify himself while gazing hungrily at the robbed stiletto heels.

Fetishes are fascinating – in fact anything that has anything remotely to do with sex is fascinating. And shoes are fascinating too… but the marriage of sex and shoes does have an appeal, doesn’t it?

Now don’t get me wrong – animal-level sex is the hight of intimacy and affection but a bit of slap-and-tickle in the bedroom is just so much fun! 

And so shoe fetishism has mutual advantages. Aside from the obvious sexual pleasures the gentleman gets from a silken, red, peep-toe four incher, the entire act from brief research appears to ritualise a kind of worship for the whole foot! 

Feet, clean, pedicured, soft, naked. Slipped inside a beautifully designed brand new shoe. The glimpse of toe cleavage or a red toenail? You don’t have to be a fetishist yourself to see the attraction. 

Fetish heels in internet stores are the epitome of everything cocotte and vampish. Pigalle and Le But de Montmartre seeps through each pair! Vampish, inky-black stilettos with a 5 inch steel heel. Thigh-high, PVC boots with platform soles and pewter-coloured heels. Dainty pink silk two-inchers with a flirty marabou puff brushing the toes. Strappy, black platform heels chanelling YSL Tribute shoes (surely THE designer fetish heel of 2007?) with a sturdy six inch heel, perfect for stepping out of a taxi and into a bar. Red, silk Louboutins for the devilish power-woman savvy enough to realise that the heel and the fitted Ralph Lauren shirt are the nouveaux power-suit, dahling!

A heel fetishist loves the shape of heels, the way they shape the foot, the skin inside the shoe, the weight the heel takes of the woman’s body, the impression it leaves in the ground and when standing on a bed, the geometric space between the heel and the sole (triangular – reflecting the ladies’ genitalia subconsciously?) and the clatter of heels on the floor. It is an obsession we can just about understand but could never – enviably – appreciate the charms of the heel to the extent of the devout heel fetishists out there. Just like a man can envy a woman for having a ten-minute orgasm, so must the woman envy the heel fetishist for getting more pleasure out of a pair of shoes than her!

But for the woman – if you are happy to satisfy this fetish if your gentleman friend is so inclined – it is an excuse to not worry about what position makes your tummy look wobbly or if you’ve had a zit errupt somewhere terribly awkward like your neck because he’ll be looking at your feet!

Admittedly, this could become frustrating but the pros in many circumstances outweigh the cons. The primary pro being you can wear your red silk Jimmy Choos and not worry about spillages, stains or general sabotage of your gorgeous pied-vetements because you get to wear them to an occasion in the bedroom!

In all seriousness, however, if you love somebody or want to be with somebody then I say go with it – embrace the fetishes! If you can, of course. 

For the poor young man who resorted to steeling shoes from women, his treasure trove of over 200 stolen and internet-purchased shoes could have been shared legitimately and sans “mugging with intent to de-shoe related activities” with an equally shoey lady.

And so ends my little blog for all the shoe fetishists out there. God love you (as long as you obtain your shoes legitimately and not by terrifying a lovely young lady on her way back from a night on the lash)!

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