It’s Not You, It’s Me: A Bittersweet Farewell to my Stilettos

Guest writer Nessa Recine from Wearers Festival writes a letter to her beloved heels and explains why she said goodbye.

I used to wear you to work every day. Strappy, closed or peep toe: you name it, I did not discriminate. I look at you fondly now, with your feathers, tassels, and extravagant details. I used to love wearing you because you made me feel powerful. The way after every step I took, you would surge jolts of confidence through me. Click-clack, click-clack: that’s the sound of being invincible. From the office to my car, to dinner and drinks with the girls, you held a permanent license to be on my feet.

Things are different now. I had to swap you out for dandy slippers, kitten heels, and trainers. Your five inch inclination made it impossible to keep up with the hustle and bustle in London. I left most of you behind because even the memory of wearing you brought me pain, much like a terrible breakup does. I have no idea how my feet endured your endless blisters, scabs, and soreness all day long. In a way this quite feels like a break up...one where I know I have to, but don’t want to. What am I to do?

In hindsight, it wasn’t only moving from Canada across the Atlantic Ocean that made me question our relationship, but turning thirty did as well. There’s a certain practicality that comes with the territory, prioritizing function and efficiency over beauty. But from time to time, I take you out again. The memories you hold are just too precious to discard, and a part of me feels powerful again when we meet.

It’s taken me a while to come to this conclusion and I hope you understand. This isn’t a restraining order, but I do need space. Someday you’ll forgive me and I realise that may not be today. I’ll always think of you fondly.

It’s not you, it’s me.

Feeling inspired to write your own letter to your clothes? Wearers Festival invites you to write a love letter, a letter to a friend, or to an enemy, a letter to a garment you don’t own anymore but miss, a long-time-no-see-letter or a get-out-of-my-life-letter.

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