For the third year in a row, Her Campus St Andrews took to the streets in towering red heels for “Walk a Mile,” an annual international march that asks men to literally walk a mile in women’s shoes to raise awareness around sexual and domestic violence. And walk they did – some gracefully, some wobbling like newborn deer, and at least one participant using a friend as a human crutch the entire way. All in the name of charity, solidarity, and the slow but steady deconstruction of toxic masculinity (one blister at a time).
This year, the event raised over £500 for Fife Women’s Aid, a charity providing lifesaving support for women and children experiencing domestic abuse. But more importantly, the walk didn’t just ask people to show up – it asked them to learn. After some criticism last year that the event felt “performative,” Chapter President Lily Andrews revamped the entire format. Instead of simply strutting from point A to point B, participants were guided through town with a narrated tour that highlighted the realities of sexualised violence: the statistics, the systems that sustain it, and the ways communities can become safer, more accountable spaces.
Lecture and heels: truly the St Andrews experience.
The guided walk meant that each momentary stop became more than a rest break for ankles; it became a moment to absorb the scale of the issue. The realities shared – like the fact that 1 in 4 women in the UK have been raped or sexually assaulted since age 16, or that fewer than 3 in 100 reported rapes result in charges within the year – hit harder when delivered to a group of men wobbling on cobblestones in stilettos. Understanding, after all, is not a passive activity. And neither is balance.
But of course, in the spirit of “one step back,” not everything went perfectly. Halfway through the march, a couple of men emerged from the Cross Keys pub to heckle participants. Yes – in the middle of an event meant to raise awareness about gender-based harassment, participants were… harassed. Irony is not dead; it’s alive, slightly drunk, and standing outside a bar at 7pm.
Yet the group kept walking. The men in heels kept standing tall (metaphorically – literally, some were clinging to a lamppost). And the moment only underscored why the walk matters: because the problem isn’t theoretical. It’s right there, on Market Street, gesturing and shouting.
Still, the day wasn’t defined by that interruption. A student-run company provided food, donations rolled in, and the atmosphere – though centred on a serious cause – felt unified. There was laughter, camaraderie, hands held for balance, men discovering the unique agony of a buckle digging into an ankle bone, and a collective refusal to be embarrassed into silence.
The power of Walk a Mile lies in its contrast. It’s activism in red heels. It’s education delivered with both empathy and blister plasters. It’s a reminder that dismantling gender-based violence isn’t always linear or glamorous or comfortable – but it’s possible when people are willing to show up, learn, and sometimes literally fall over for the cause.
So yes: three steps forward, one step back. Sometimes that step back is a heckler outside Cross Keys. Sometimes it’s just a particularly uneven paving stone. But the point is that the group keeps moving – supporting survivors, funding vital services, challenging harmful norms, and proving that change can be slow, imperfect, and occasionally wobbly… but it’s happening. As a victim of sexual violence myself, I can say that I’m proud to have been involved.
And if nothing else, at least now a handful of St Andrews men truly understand the meaning of “my feet are killing me.” Consider it experiential learning.