Let’s not talk about our heels. They are not for public consumption. They are a secret shame. “Razor?” asks the lady in the pedicure place, brandishing her potato peeler judgmentally. “Of course.”
And so they scrape it all off and then it all hardens up again overnight. And when it goes hard that’s bad enough but when it cracks and gets hurty and then you get a kind of elderly limp, well, that’s sexy.
Say hello to Flexitol. It’s not glamorous but it is cheap and it works, works, works, works, works. You slather it on at night, roll a pair of socks on over the top (again, sexy) for three nights in a row and, guess what? Heels as soft as a baby’s bottom. It’s sandals all the way to September…
