There was a time when my wardrobe consisted of a dreary collection of flat heeled shoes. High heeled shoes, I would reason to myself, were for small, skinny women, the kind who could pull off wearing a tight top and short skirt without batting an eyelid. Sure, I’d forayed into the world of heels as a shy, awkward teenager, strapping a pair of clumpy platform sandals onto my feet in an unsuccessful attempt to get into a nightclub underage. Being tall, I’d never really felt confident enough to pull it off. I had all the flatties you could ask for. Ballet pumps scuffed beyond recognition. Suede ankle boots worn so…