French Women Don't Wear Band-Aids

Two girls in Paris... what better way to spend a day than by donning a pair of sensible shoes and walking the streets? Perfect. But did I say 'sensible shoes'? What are they, exactly?

I know that every woman in her forties, and above, regrets the years she spent squishing her hoofs into towering stilettos. And that she laughs and shakes her head at the younger femmes who potter around on tippy-toes in their latest masochistic Manolo Blahniks... but it's a well-known fact that women suffer for fashion - especially in the foot department. Pretty shoes make us feel pretty, so we try and find flat, bejewelled alternatives to add some sparkle to our tootsies.

So why is it that even with our best intentions we still manage to be plagued by the dreaded blister (or five!)? Women will spend money on pedicures, and thousands of dollars on shoes, and regardless of the financial attention we lavish upon them, our feet will repay us with nothing but calloused heels and bleeding toes.

Walking from our gorgeous flat in Le Marais, across the city to La Tour du Eiffel (and almost 1,000 feet up!), I chose this morning to wear my newly acquired black strappy sandals. Totally sensible... I'm actually being serious. They're flat, with a rubber sole for extra cushioning, I really thought I had the perfect outfit (cream sundress and sexy flats that matched my gorgeous Steve Madden leather handbag)... Within fifteen minutes the niggling rub between my toes began to sting - yet another blister! Geez. Our journey to Paris's most notable landmark needed to take a slight detour past a pharmacy to purchase some much needed band-aids. It was after the purchase, when I found myself street-side and balancing on one foot in my attempt to adhere said-band-aid that I began to look around at the odd expressions of the Parisian women... have they not suffered the summer blister? It would seem not. I'm thinking Mireille Guiliano should write a sequel to her hugely successful self-help book, French Women Don't Get Fat... it would appear that French women (especially those in Paris) just aren't victims of the daily maladies that affect the rest of us mere-women. I only wish I had Carrie to take me around the streets of Paris... I'm sure she had to strap on some elastoplast every now and then!