What is it with modern women and shoes?

More than once it's occurred to me: what is it with modern women getting so pathetic and overexcited about shoes? You know, Sarah Jessica Parker syndrome: screeching in faux-orgasmic delight about their must-have Manolos as if nothing else mattered. In a way, fair enough (girls are allowed their toys as well as boys). And I understand the true hidden allure of shoes for women - if you'll notice, they accessorise one of the few parts of a woman's body which can be relied upon not to suddenly ruin her look (and her life) by gaining weight. In this way, shoes are the devoted dogs of the fashion world - blind to their owner's physical faults, and for that alone they must be worshipped. Yet every so often there would be this tickle of feminist irritation at the way women seemed to use shoes as an excuse to regress to 'fairer sex' status, only this time with a knowing ironic nod that (sometimes, somehow) made it worse.
Then something happened. At Christmas I opened a box and there they are - a pair of Jimmy Choos, painfully high (more than 5in), black, with a tiny strap. We stared at them as if the baby Jesus himself had appeared before us in shoe form. Solemnly, I put them on, stood, wobbled, and fell over. Eventually I was hoisted up as if by a crane and, being tall anyway, almost crashed my head through the ceiling. Somewhat over-made-up for a December morning, and wearing my heels, I probably resembled a festive transvestite, but that didn't occur to me. My only thoughts as I slid back into a chair were of power, glory, dominion. These weren't just shoes, not even fuck-me shoes; they were 'Fuck you all, I'm Queen of the World' shoes. And, I reasoned, there was nothing remotely anti-feminist about that.