If you haven’t made your way to Carmel-by-the-Sea, a charming seaside town two hours south of San Francisco, you’re missing out on thatched roofs, hidden alleyways, wishing wells outside grocery stores, storybook architecture and a wonderful dog-friendly village and beach.
The cobblestone structures and hilly sidewalks are so “medieval European” in nature that there’s a (not seriously enforced) 1960s law still on the books forbidding anyone from wearing heels higher than two inches. Moreover, that stiletto must have at least a square inch of bearing surface touching the ground.
Why? Because sidewalks made uneven by tree roots are tripping hazards, and Carmel-by-the-Sea doesn’t want you to blame (read: sue) them.
But if you outlaw heels, only outlaws will wear them, so I tottered around a little in Madden Girl heels, just enough to write this story. The shoes had been a thrift store find that I never wore again and re-donated; the things freelance journalists have to do to get the story!
I went first to the police station to see if anyone wanted to arrest me. The police chief refused to talk to me, claiming “real work.” I continued along painfully.
I then did something very prudent since I’m not really a scofflaw: I went to City Hall to obtain my permit to wear them.
City Hall is a sweet clapboard building with an art glass front door and a hanging sign in King Arthur font. I went inside to the front window to request a permit, which essentially just entails signing away your right to sue. The wonderful woman at the counter told me that often gay men will come to Carmel-by-the-Sea and get their permits for a fun day walking around the village. I had a few words with the code compliance coordinator to ensure I fully understood the ramifications of my choice. I’m now the proud owner of permit #2879 of the “Permit for the Wearing of Shoes with Heels in Excess of Certain Limitations.”
Afterwards, I set out fully refreshed to legally conquer the wavering terrain. I don’t know how women wear heels this high for any length of time, whether on a smooth as butter sidewalk or one with pebbles and rough edges.
I lasted about 10 minutes and then sat on a cute stone fence to put on the sneakers that I’d brought. Given the circumstances, I took a few seconds to double-check that my laces were tied.
