Scientist who proved high heels cripple you — but can’t give them up

AS i STrOdE down the road in my favourite black, high-heeled ankle boots, i felt like i had the world at my feet. i adored the ‘clack clack clack’ they made on the pavement and the extra height and confidence they gave me.

Seconds later there was a terrible crack and i collapsed in a crumpled heap — my right heel had caught in a pothole, twisting my ankle and shattering it in four places.

You’re probably wincing reading this but it gets worse. When a paramedic tried to remove my boot in the ambulance, i looked down to see my foot dangling, like the toggle on a skipping rope.

after two operations, three months in bed and a year of physiotherapy, i learned to walk again. however, i was left with nerve damage and two metal plates in my ankle, held in place by 11 screws. Worse, i was told that i wouldn’t, indeed shouldn’t, wear high heels again.

You wouldn’t think i’d need persuading but look in my wardrobe and the heels are still there. Not platforms or skyscraper stilettos, admittedly, but there are heels, some of them 4 in high.

WhY? Women’s fascination with heels is a professional interest of mine, in my work as a social scientist at aberdeen University. Six years after my agonising fall, i have completed, with my colleague max Barnish, the first major systematic research into the impact of heels (anything from 2 in to 4 in) reviewing all the studies done on the subject.

The conclusion of our paper, published in the BmC Public health Journal this month, was clear — heels are terrible and beautiful things and they have a hold on women (and men) that no one can fathom.

Snapped ankles aside, there’s a strong link between high heels and musculoskeletal conditions; back pain, bunions and sprains. The longer and more frequently heels are worn, and the higher and narrower they are, the worse they are for your health. Some injuries caused by them, like mine, require hospital treatment.

Yet i, and millions like me, can’t give them up. at 5ft 9in it’s not that i need them, i just love the way they make me feel. Women put up with the risk and discomfort because they make us feel more confident, more beautiful.

There is a fetishisation of feet, shoes and high heels. men shown photos of women can say if they are wearing heels, even if their feet are not in the frame. They also think these women are more attractive.

Some studies have found that men are twice as likely to smile at a woman in heels and are also more likely to help her if, for example, she asks a question, or drops something.

Some suggest that is because they perceive women in heels to be more vulnerable, arguing that by wearing heels, women are controlled by men and male desires, and are rendered constrained, less mobile, more vulnerable to attack.

however, heels are both controlling and empowering. Not convinced? historically, it was men who wore heels.They were a symbol of power, of wealth. men eventually stopped wearing them because they simply weren’t comfortable. Women adopted them in an attempt to gain this power.

Before my accident, i loved the feeling that wearing vertiginous heels gave me. i remember one pair of black, patent, 3½in peep toes. i felt invincible in them; they were smart and sexy, my going-out shoes. i no longer have them because, after my fall, i couldn’t bear to keep them and not wear them.

The doctors who had rebuilt my ankle said they didn’t know if i’d walk properly again, or be able to drive. They weren’t sure how much nerve damage there would be either. But i’ve been lucky. i did the physiotherapy religiously and, apart from some loss of sensation, i am fully mobile again.

i can feel some of the screws and a couple of them actually protrude, but nobody can tell unless they look very closely. it was four years before i had the confidence to think about trying anything other than flats but slowly, over the past two years, i have begun to rebuild my collection of high heels.

i started with a pair of kneehigh boots because they seemed ‘sensible’ and then some black patents with a pointed toe and a block heel.

MOrE recently i’ve bought 3in wedges and strappy, 2½inch heels. Experimenting again makes me feel happy. i’m lucky that block heels, which offer more stability with their height, are so fashionable.

high heels inspire impassioned debate. i am amazed at how much attention our research has attracted. i think it is because we associate heels with sex, and sex sells. When i went into the office the day after the research was published, all my colleagues, unsurprisingly, were looking at my feet. i was wearing heels and people asked: ‘how can you wear those when you’ve just said they’re bad for you?’

i can only explain that i know the risks — better than most, i should say — and i’m making an informed choice. and i’ve just bought a really lovely new black suede pair, and i am not going to give them up! WE WANT you to nominate women for our Inspirational Women of the Year. The awards, in association with L.K.Bennett, will raise funds for YoungMinds, the UK’s leading charity committed to improving the wellbeing and mental health of the young. It is one of eight UK charities that Heads Together, a campaign co-ordinated by the Royal Foundation of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Prince Harry, has brought together. Today, TESSA CUNNINGHAM tells the story of another nominee . . .

Sharmila COlliNS dreams that one morning she will be able to run into her daughter’s room, cover her face in kisses and squeeze her tight in a huge bear hug.

instead, every day starts in the cruellest way imaginable, with Sharmila having to inflict pain on her beloved daughter. Such is the agony of simply getting up and dressed that Sohana, 15, has to be fed painkillers to help her cope.

Sohana — a smiley, bubbly girl — suffers from a rare but particularly horrible condition, recessive dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa, or EB for short. it’s a genetic illness in which the skin blisters and peels off at the slightest brush or knock. it leaves sufferers such as Sohana — of whom there are 8,000 in Britain — covered in red raw wounds and huge blisters.

Their skin is so delicate, they are often called ‘butterfly children’. The pretty name is a world away from the excruciating pain of what sufferers endure every single day. The inside of Sohana’s mouth, her oesophagus and her gut are affected, too. Food has to be liquidised and mealtimes are an agonisingly slow process.

‘Food should be one of life’s pleasures, but Sohana hates mealtimes because it can take her 90 minutes to eat a simple snack,’ explains Sharmila. ‘She has blisters in her mouth which make it extremely hard for her to eat anything solid.

‘Watching her nibble at a piece of toast is heartbreaking. She so wants to enjoy tearing into the bread, but she can’t.’

Sohana’s eyes are prone to developing agonisingly painful blisters, which can leave her temporarily blinded.

‘it’s like Sohana has been flayed or horribly burned — but it never heals, it never goes away,’ says Sharmila, 48, a vet. ‘her skin is so fragile that i have never been able to give her a big squeeze and she has never been able to touch my face. She has to wear gloves all the time to protect her skin.

‘i have to dress her wounds morning and evening. it’s excruciating for her.’

all Sharmila wants is for Sohana to have a normal life, free of pain like her sisters Jacinda, 13, and tenyear-old twins akhaila and Zuleikha, who are all mercifully unaffected by the gene.

instead, Sohana is denied the normal rough and tumble of family life they take for granted.

‘it breaks my heart to watch the girls running in the garden and see Sohana shuffling behind, every step agony,’ says Sharmila, who lives in North london with her husband, James, 47, a barrister. ‘When they share a pizza, all Sohana can do is watch. The crust is too hard for her mouth.

‘and she has never felt the sand between her toes or walked barefoot on the grass. When her sisters rush off to play tennis or go swimming, she has to stay at home.

‘as she’s got older it’s become increasingly embarrassing. People stare at her which, of course, she loathes. The first time it happened she was just two. it was in a toy shop and this little girl started pointing at an ugly open wound on her face.

‘We had always told Sohana that she was gorgeous, so it was a horrible shock for her. Yet, like so many children who suffer appalling health problems, she has a fantastically positive spirit which puts us adults to shame.’

While her sisters are a merry and protective band for Sohana, their very presence simply highlights how limited and painful her life is.

‘We were determined to have more children so that Sohana would enjoy as normal a family life as possible,’ says Sharmila. ‘The girls adore each other. Sohana and Jacinda are particularly close. They call each other “dude”. it’s so sweet.

‘But i also feel incredibly guilty because every day her sisters hold up a terrible mirror — showing Sohana all the things she can’t do.’

Worst of all is the ordeal every morning and evening when Sharmila has to gently lubricate her daughter’s eyelids, check and re-dress every one of her wounds and prick the numerous blisters which otherwise will only keep on getting bigger. The process can take up to two hours.

‘There can’t be anything worse for a mother than having to cause your child pain; and i have to do it twice, every single day of my daughter’s life,’ says Sharmila. ‘When Sohana was born, the shock of discovering she had this condition was horrific. She was just a day old when the skin started peeling off her feet and around the little name tag the midwife had put on her ankle.’ Sohana was examined by a dermatologist at Great Ormond Street hospital in london and a biopsy confirmed the worst. a week later, the shellshocked couple were sent home with a booklet on EB and the advice from doctors to wrap their daughter in cotton wool.

‘We were so terrified of hurting her that we did that almost literally,’ recalls Sharmila. ‘When we carried her, it was on a pillow. We sprinkled cornflour in her tiny baby clothes so they wouldn’t rub her. We dreaded the milestones that most parents look forward to.

‘We couldn’t let her crawl because her knees were too fragile. and she was three before i finally trusted her enough to walk without holding my hand to stop her falling.’

But even worse for Sharmila was knowing that there was no treatment or cure. ‘Everything we were told and had read stressed that EB children have very short, painful lives,’ says Sharmila. ‘it was impossibly cruel.’

and it was news this redoubtable mother simply refused to accept.

‘We were warned that Sohana would live in constant pain and almost certainly die in her early 20s. Children with EB are at exceptionally high risk of developing malignant skin cancer,’ says Sharmila.

‘Effectively, it’s a skin problem with