EDITORIAL & OPINIONS
Confessions from an Amazon
it to her straight
“Hey, do you play
Such is an annoying question in the world of a five-foot,
ten-inch tall female. Filling the shoes of such a role is no
simple task. First of all, finding shoes that size is quite
the feat, and you can just forget about additional feminine
features like heels. I don’t want or need six inch heels — my
father’s genes make me high enough already, thanks.
Being tall has always been a stand out feature in my life.
I’ll be the first to admit that I was more than slightly
self-conscious regarding my ability to tower over all others,
particularly during my tender childhood years. As the tallest
person in my class, I learned to assume my position in the
back row centre on class picture day. On the school basketball
team, I knew I would always play, and I would always play centre.
The high school volleyball coach urged me to play on the senior
team, I guess assuming my sheer height would intimidate members
of the opposing team, thus securing an easy victory.
When I was growing up, my selection of boys was rather sparse.
Things were a little bit tricky seeing that only three boys
were at my eye-level. Let’s just say that being simultaneously
picky and tall didn’t work to my advantage.
My selection in shoes was even worse. As my friends pranced
around in charming size six styles, similar shoes clearly couldn’t
support my vertical span. My mother would try to reassure me
and organize trips to the United States in search of the perfect
pair of shoes. However, this led to me never sporting trendy
shoes, but always practical, mature, grown-up a la Naturalizer
Despite my seemingly horrific childhood, things did get better.
Thank you Marco for being the first boy to go through your
growth spurt, thus shifting me over one spot from my usual
centre stance in school photos. Thank you Jean Machine for
selling 34 length jeans. Plus, shoe stores have begun carrying
my size (I love you Transit). Though I may be the source of
the problem, I never have a problem viewing at concerts. And
though I sometimes feel awkward dancing among some of my significantly
shorter friends, the marvel of heels has actually come to my
My roommates, quite aware of how much it bothers me, continue
to label my stature as “giant-esque,” “amazonian” and
the most flattering of all, “sasquatch-like.” But
every so often, I think right around my breaking point, they
reassure me I have been blessed with “model height.” And
it seems that more often than not, people are genuinely jealous
of my height.
I’m still faced with the ever-so impressive observation
of “wow, you’re pretty tall for a girl.” Yeah,
I guess I am, but you know what? I think I’m finally
OK with that.