When I was a child, I loved high heels. Whether it was the glittery princess pair from the toy box at my nursery, or the funky suede stilettos stolen from my mum’s wardrobe, nothing compared to the feeling of strutting across a room pretending to be a fashion model before inevitably falling over. It didn’t matter if a pair of shoes were two sizes too big, five inches too high or objectively quite ugly — if they had a heel attached, they were good enough for me. As I grew older, nothing changed. I spent my teenage years staring at the diamanté encrusted open-toes in the footwear section of New Look. I idolised the Victoria’s Secret angels who made walking in six-inch heels look effortless, and I swore to myself that I would have mastered this art by the time I was an adult.

“It seems there is no trendier look for a Cambridge student in May Week than a ballgown with scruffy shoes”

Fast-forward to my second year of university and I’m getting ready for Emmanuel May Ball. I’ve left my hair and make-up to the last minute and, in a frantic rush to leave on time, I’m unable to find the doc-marten boots I was intending to wear. Damn it, I say to myself, I’ll have to wear trainers. Despite the black-tie dress code, the beautiful gold sandal heels sitting at the back of my wardrobe do not even come into consideration.

But what changed my mind about high heels? Well, the fact that my feet ended up killing me after twelve hours of partying without wearing heels was probably a sign that I had made the right decision to choose flats for that night. But besides this, I would have been in the minority of my friend group if I had opted for height over comfort — it seems there is no trendier look for a Cambridge student in May Week than a ballgown with scruffy shoes, and I wasn’t about to defy this dreadfully convenient convention. Only one of my friends decided to brave stilettos, and let’s just say, she spent most of the night channelling the look of the Cambridge barefoot man.

After the ball was over, I sent my grandma a photo of me and my friends posing in our fancy dresses. She reported feeling “amused at the fashion for substantial shoes”, a remark which caused me to consider the generational aspect of the heel’s decline. In recent years, there has been a shift in women’s attitudes towards high heels. Research by the shoe brand Kurt Geiger recently found that heels of four inches or higher now only make up a sixth of non-flat shoe sales, compared with almost half in 2014, and that sales of two-inch mid heels have doubled.

But why exactly has Gen Z ditched the high heel? When I asked Cambridge students for their opinions on the once-deemed classic shoe style, one student argued that young people would rather look edgy than classy on a night out, causing them to opt for platform boots over heeled shoes. Another stressed the importance of feeling comfortable when you’re trying to let loose and have fun. The workload in Cambridge is painful enough, why add pain to your feet too?

“One student argued that young people would rather look edgy than classy on a night out”

Kate, a student at Fitz, argued: “Cambridge clubbing isn’t the right setting to wear heels, in terms of aesthetics or comfort. I will occasionally wear them to a formal to make myself feel fancy, but I would generally opt for doc-martens since they are more practical to walk up the hill in.”

It is possible that the London-centric nature of Cambridge University contributes to its culture of flat shoes. As someone who grew up in London, where catching multiple forms of public transport after a night out is the norm, I can admit the habit of reaching for trainers never quite leaves you. However, students from other areas, specifically places where a car is the primary mode of getting around, are more likely to wear heels regularly.

Ali-Mae, a Cambridge student from Essex, explained: “Any celebration at home is a cause for wearing heels and I bring that with me to Cambridge. I will always opt for heels, no matter how impractical, even if I only end up wearing them for an hour. Even during my nine-week internship, I wore heels every day and, although my feet did hurt, it was worth it since I felt so much more put together.”

So maybe my preference for flats is a product of my London background, but I think the physical discomfort that comes from wearing heels is universal. Comfort is certainly my biggest consideration when it comes to deciding whether to rock the heeled look. I still adore the way high heels make my legs appear, and how powerful it feels to tower over shorter men. But, while two, three or six shots of tequila might make me forget my discomfort, even one drink among friends is enough to stop me from caring about my physical appearance. If I’m unlikely to even top up my lipstick on a night out, the only reason I might pay attention to my shoes is if they are giving me blisters. And girls, while you should wear whatever makes you feel confident, I think the lipstick example is a great mentality to live by.

Will high heels ever make a comeback in Cambridge? Trends can be so unpredictable that it’s hard to say. But, despite my identification as the girliest girl I know, and the potential risk of offending my younger self, I must admit: for the sake of my feet, I really hope they don’t!