By: MARLI MURPHY Date: 11/21/94

November's elections are a done deal, but American women can still cast ballots of another kind. We'll vote with our feet. Literally. Whoever coined the phrase "height of fashion" must've been some kind of Nostradamas of couture, able to see the future strutting down this year's runways in Paris and Milan and New York on 3-, 4- and even (gasp!) 5-inch heels. This comes as unwelcome news to someone like myself, who once lost a bunion-pinching navy-blue pump at a semiformal banquet after I'd slipped it off during an interminably long awards program. Two glasses of water, a couple of refills on the iced tea and a generous glass of wine later, I needed to excuse myself for the ladies room when I realized I could locate only one shoe. Although I did my best to remain professional in my surreptitious grope under the table with my foot, the gentleman seated on my right still calls. Like most women who've marched down the career path, I've got a closet full of tall shoes to show for the effort. In dress-for-success shades of taupe, black, camel and medium brown, they're polished to a shine and lined up like soldiers ready for combat. Behind them in a heap lie the gold strappy sandals, the Kelly green pumps for St. Pat's and the glitzy fabric holiday numbers, all in near-perfect condition because they've been worn about 30 minutes each. Of late, these specimens of elevated footgear have gathered dust while I work as a free-lance writer, mostly at home, in sneakers. I'll drag out a pair of pumps for a special occasion that I know will be brief in duration - a twirl on the dance floor or a wedding ceremony for lapsed Protestants. Then I marvel at how I ever managed to cram my feet into those pointy-toed contraptions for eight-hour work days that often led to after-hours business functions. High-heeled shoes continue to be considered de rigueur career footwear, even though they strain your lower back, ruin your posture and contort your feet. A survey by Working Woman magazine showed that while 81 percent of women said they wore flats to an average day at the office, only 43 percent would wear flats to a business meeting and a meager 27 percent would choose flats for a job interview. When it comes to making an impression on the job, women want to be well-heeled. You've got to wonder why shoes that directly threaten your productivity by throwing off your balance, slowing your pace and making you downright cranky by afternoon have become such a "given" in the workplace. Is it because women have the ingrained notion that we're not "dressed up" without heels? Or perhaps it's because dress codes in the business world still are set primarily by guys in ties who like the looks of women in heels. Speaking of ties, a male co-worker once told me that he didn't understand what women were griping about, because females in heeled dress shoes couldn't possibly be any more uncomfortable in the office than men forced by convention to wear ties. Later, as we both rode the office elevator, I found the one and only value to wearing high heels when I was "accidentally" forced by the press of passengers to step back onto his toes, crushing them under the hard, little, cruel points I had been forced to teeter upon all day. By the sound of his screams I assume that he is still limping; I know that I am. Once the Wonderbra took the country by storm, I suppose it was only a matter of time before heels returned with a vengeance. Sarah Jessica Parker sauntered onto the Letterman show not long ago in black patent Mary Janes that made her at least four inches taller and aroused the attention of her host, who clearly became unglued. Such a glimpse into the future of fashion footwear has probably prompted a rush of podiatrists and orthopedic surgeons into automobile showrooms to pick out their new Jaguars. The sky-high heels fad will no doubt pass me by; like many women in my generation, I've found my love affair with heels is waning with each year of mileage I put on my feet. My motto for the '90s and beyond: "If the shoe fits, it must be a flat. " Now that's what I call voting with your feet.

Marli Murphy is a free-lance writer in Kansas City, North, and a contributing columnist to FYI on Mondays.