At first I thought “Hope in High Heels” had to be a parody. A bunch of men in suits tottering round a boardroom in pink stilettos, raising awareness of male violence against women through the medium of comedy “feminine” walks — this had to be a joke, right? A bitter commentary on the vacuousness of corporate wokewashing? Or perhaps a nod to all those creepy male colleagues who pretend they’re doing women a favour by “getting in touch with their feminine sides”? 

Alas, no. It turns out this was deadly serious. Hope in High Heels started in Halton, Ontario, “as an avenue for men and boys to show their support for women experiencing domestic violence by wearing hot-pink heels”. Now Canadian lawmakers are getting in on the act, cheerfully sashaying to the applause of all those around them. How stunning! How brave!

Men are indulging in superficial, trivial acts of gender nonconformity

To be fair, I can see how this kind of thing evolves. It starts with the idea of “walking in her shoes”, then there’s a discussion of what her shoes would be like, and how they might differ from his. To code an object as feminine, you make it pink. High-heeled shoes are hard to walk in, but then that’s kind of the point — men will struggle in ways that female heel-wearers won’t, because the latter are used to the pain. For the manliest of men — those who would never wear anything but the plainest colours, the most masculine styles — the wearing of the pink high heel is presumed to constitute a particular sacrifice. 

The end result is one in which I imagine the message is meant to be “they’re feeling for you, sisters! They’re with you all the way!” Why, then, does it look like these men are ridiculing women? Why is the overall impression one of men delighting in cosplaying the victim, all the better to reiterate that whilst they’re not the perpetrators (the perpetrators are the bad guys, not them) they’re not the losers, either? 

There they go, staggering in footwear that they would never wear on a daily basis, temporarily debasing themselves as an act of benevolence towards the perpetually debased. How, precisely, is this helping to end male violence against women? If anything, the message I get is one of entitlement and superiority: “if you want us to care about what the worst of us do to you, you must put up with the best of us lording it over you.” 

It’s something I’m noticing more and more. Men are indulging in superficial, trivial acts of gender nonconformity — acts which can seem indistinguishable from recreational dress-up, or even outright mockery — then expecting women to be grateful for their norm-smashing brilliance. The fact that men’s oppression of women is facilitated by gender — that the arbitrary codes we live by are not, in fact, arbitrary — becomes an excuse for them to present their own highly selective flouting of certain codes (but not others) as a renunciation of privilege. They cherry-pick the rules they wish to disobey, briefly parody transgression before returning to the safety of standard masculinity, yet behave as though they have been dealing the patriarchy (which is always other men) the fatal blow. 

“Look at me wearing heels! Look at me wearing pink! Look at me expressing my feelings! Why aren’t you bitches more grateful?”

I apologise for my lack of enthusiasm. I just don’t detect much genuine compassion behind this simulated identification with the female condition. I don’t feel flattered by the idea that a man might lower himself, however briefly, to negotiate the constraints of femininity, as though this could be an end in itself. Far from undermining gender norms, Hope In High Heels feels like their reinscription. The performance relies on the principle that men should be celebrated for doing the bare minimum, and the reason they can do the bare minimum is because they still belong to the class that dominates. 

Women cannot challenge male violence with a bit of comedy manspreading

It is, of course, in keeping with a gender politics that favours parody over any genuine sacrifice on the part of men. In her critique of Judith Butler, Martha Nussbaum describes how “for Butler, the act of subversion is so riveting, so sexy, that it is a bad dream to think that the world will actually get better. What a bore equality is!” High heels — so sexy! — have long been a subject of feminist criticism. They cause us pain. They make it hard for us to move freely (in an oral history of 9/11, female employees of the Twin Towers describe having to choose between not being able to run fast enough or having to walk on broken glass). Yet Hope In High Heels uses them as a symbol for “being a woman”, the limitations they impose, a stand-in for empathy. It’s funny! It’s fun! 

I have yet to see any other oppressed group cheer on the oppressor class as they humorously don markers of subjugation in an effort to “raise awareness” of their own violence. I write this not to suggest that one form of oppression is worse than another, but there is something about masculinity that is meant to be so precious, so fragile; something about femininity, so unserious, that when men mock women, we almost treat it as an act of kindness. Be thankful, for in doing that silly walk, they have given a part of themselves away.

The truth of the power imbalance is revealed by the fact that women cannot challenge male violence with a bit of comedy manspreading. Should we do this, it will be regarded as humour, nothing more. We will not be considered generous for indulging in exaggerated performances of masculinity; if anything, we might be accused of being mean. 

Instead, women do the work of fundraising, setting up refuges, trying to change laws and stating boundaries, often being called names in the process. Actual feminists — like actual, flat heel-wearing women — are no fun.

It may be that Hope In High Heels sparks conversations; it might even raise some funds. It is, nonetheless, a form of activism that relies on women accepting there is a fun side to inequality. You can be a victim or a joke, so laugh along, if you know what’s good for you. Shouldn’t our choices be better than this?