Dating the Danes | Walk a mile in my stilettos

Three months ago I bought the nicest pair of stilettos I’d ever seen. I knew full well I’d be the only one within a 30km radius wearing them. But as a foreigner, I’m not bound by the conformist Danish dress code, so I went ahead and wore them anyway.


And I’m glad I did. For in the 12 weeks since their purchase, these precarious pumps have given me some significant insights.


I now know there IS actually a white knight on his steed buried beneath layers of rejection from feminist Danish women who want to ‘do it all’ themselves.


This became obvious when I took a detour one day into Netto while wearing these sky-high spikes.


To cut to the chase, one heel went straight through the metal grate near the door and got stuck in it. But, before I knew it, two men in painter overalls were ushering me out of the way and yanking up my prized shoe. Never have I seen such elation, pride and joy on the faces of men. It was their Cinderella moment.


After this, I figured what better pair of shoes to wear out on the town with a (tall) Danish man to further test this theory.


For the first 20 minutes Mr Shy was quite fascinated by them and chose to comment on them three times. Not a “great shoes” compliment though, more of an uncharming “Aren’t they hard to walk in?”


Well as a matter of fact, after three glasses of wine, they were hard to walk in.


Luckily for him, this offered the perfect moment for his hidden ‘white knight’ to emerge. For one block I enjoyed a side-carry… for the following block it was a slightly less romantic version of the ‘wedding dress over the threshold’ move… and for the final block (also known as his finest hour) he let me wear HIS shoes. True story.


Now it wasn’t quite the benevolent move I was hoping for. Without shoes he looked like an Australian with slightly less facial hair. But it showed how far he’d go to rescue a suffering redhead.


You see, while the androgynous look may be in over here, no-one asked the poor men what they think. They’re forced to see swarms of Danish women in grey sacks with sneakers and find it “hot”.


I don’t feel Danish women are owed anything by Danish men, but I strongly believe they owe it to the men to don a good pair of stilettos once in a while and let them play the knight. Needless to say, I’m happy to help out.