Ah, to be a passionate British heroine running in the meadows sparkling under morning dew! What would you wear? Why, something completely impractical, of course, like these brown kid and embroidered pale blue striped damask shoes with pink silk throat ruffles, top line binding, and small heels (ca. 1795).

No Comments Yet »

If you ever lusted after a pair of Louboutins (and you know you have), you MUST immediately go read this article in the Style section of NYT: “Open-Toed Fetishes (and More)” by Cintra Wilson. Heee-larious. Here’s the reaction of one couple looking for the perfect nude pumps at the Louboutin boutique in New York, upon not finding them in the right size: A middle-aged Teutonic couple dressed like the millionaire and his wife from “Gilligan’s Island” were seething with palpable fury amid eviscerated cardboard boxes on a battlefield of mangled tissue. “We want since two days!” the man bellowed, the brass buttons on his nautical blazer melting in fright. His wife let out a visceral moan and gnashed her perfect teeth; her eyes rolled upward in despair as she clutched in rueful hands the wrong size. For a moment she resembled the anguished Mary of Michelangelo’s Pietà — only evil. I think the piece captures perfectly the hype around Louboutin shoes, as objects of desire in all its anguished forms, ranging from lust to fetish. I think I’ll abide by the author’s advice regarding the Louboutin boutique: Unless you’re Irma La Douce, don’t go looking for daywear, although there are various perversions of the espadrille in wood and leather in which it might be possible to teeter around the park. Word!

No Comments Yet »

Some 2000 and odd years ago, an otherwise civilized Roman Empire would get the same kick out of gladiator fights that we now get, say, from watching professional football:

As you can see from this ancient mosaic, gladiator footwear was serious business, complete with over-the-knee plates to protect the precious shins. Those shin-plates have been underrepresented in the long and glorious tradition of classical paintings, which more often than not depict sturdy, beefed-up warriors wearing the most ridiculously fragile footwear contraptions, made of delicate strings woven and attached in fanciful ways. They’re also underrepresented in the current resurgence of the so-called gladiator-trend sandals, because, let’s be honest, if anything, we want to showcase our shins, not protect them from the world (although in certain crowded subways that wouldn’t be such a bad idea–but I digress).

And so! I’ve finally accepted the fact that gladiator sandals are EVERYWHERE, I mean, just pick your shoe store of choice, online or not, and voila! There they are, and they have been there for a few seasons now, so I can’t willfully ignore them any longer. For here’s the thing: I stayed away from gladiators because they tend to “cut” the foot from your leg, often with bulky plates and multiple ankle straps, and disrupt the natural lines and the illusion of “elongated” that I so direly need to create. Which is to say, I’ve often thought that unless you’ve got wispy legs like a runway model, why, those gladiators are likely to turn you into the spitting image of those two beefcakes duking it out in my introductory mosaic. And that’s not a good look for me, is all I’m saying.

But! I think I’ve reached the critical point in time when I’ve got to get into a pair of gladiator sandals, or my summer wardrobe my life won’t be complete. A cursory perusal of my favorite shoe haunts on the internet has presented me with approximately 322,485 handy choices, give or take two. Ayyyyy! to quote the Manolo. What to do? After a rigorous selection process consisting mainly of “let’s just stick to one website, or I’m going to shoot myself,” I’ve narrowed down my choices to two:

The curiously-named Dolce Vita “Daisy-11″ sandal, in gold or pewter (probably gold, since gold and gladiator go together like that), $60 at Piperlime:

Or, the more high-end Cynthia Vincent “Dinah,” $200 at Piperlime (hey, Zappos has it listed for $214–what’s up, Zappos? Piperlime’s delivery is also free, you know!):

They both have that classic woven look on the vamp, and multiple ankle straps (which are pretty cool, if you ask me). I’m not completely sure I should spend so much money for a shoe that might as well go out of style next year (what? it’s been known to happen!), but the Cynthia Vincent sandals do have a quite excellent design. On the other hand, the Dolce Vitas are cheap and attractive and definitely satisfy the gladiator tooth. What say you, Internet? Which should I choose?

6 Comments »

A good low pump is hard to find–you know what I’m saying? When you’re looking for a subtle lift without the discomfort of 3 inch+ heels in a dressy and interesting shoe, but you want to avoid the triple-whammy of 1) flat-as-pancake-soles, 2) thick low heels, and 3) stodgy black pumps of nondescript origin–your options are limited at best.

Which is why I cherish this Georgina Goodman snake leather pump with yellow leather trim and flirty but non-fussy bow on the vamp:

That’s what I call kicking heels–all the style, none of the discomfort, and supremely versatile (I can imagine wearing them with a pencil skirt for an office look, or with a mini skirt or even jeans out and about town with friends). Plus, my yellow obsession this season has been well documented (can’t help it! It’s a HOT color, people!). The only thing slightly unfriendly about them is the price tag–they’re $405 at Joseph’s, but hey! as we shoe lovers know oh-so-well, beauty and versatility come at a cost.

1 Comment »

Yes, there’s a formula devoted to calculating the amount of inches you can tolerate in your heel and it’s been devised by Professor Paul Stevenson at the University of Surrey, UK. So, how high can you go?

The maximum heel height formula is based on shoe size and an elusive Q factor, which takes into account sociological factors such as how shoe stylishness increases a woman’s ability to tolerate pain.
h=Q x (12 + 3s/8)
h is the maximum height of the heel (in cm).
Q is a sociological factor and has a value between 0 and 1.
s is shoe size (UK ladies sizes).

There’s more to it, of course, and if you want to get technical and learn more details, read the whole thing here. An interesting factoid, though, from the same article: did you know that “a 100 pound woman in stilettos will exert pressure under her foot that is 20 times that of a 6,000 pound elephant“? Think about it next time you see that you left holes in the hot asphalt with you shoes and you get panic-stricken about your weight: those heels may look dainty, but they’re, well, literally, lethal.

(As an aside: I don’t think even Dr. Stevenson can explain how SJP aka Carrie Bradshaw can run in 5-inch stilettos, plus a bulky wedding dress, on the streets of Manhattan. That “Q” must be awfully high.)

I got the links and info via a MUST-READ article (no, really: compulsory reading for all you high or low-heel wearers alike) at Cocktail Party Physics, written by bona fide physicist and author Jennifer Ouellette. All the good, the bad, and the ugly about heels-or-no-heels* and an explanation of the science of heels, neatly packaged and humorously delivered. And I’m not talking only figuratively about the “good” part: apparently high heels can help you tone your abdomen and pelvic floor. Who knew? Ok now, off you go to read Jennifer Ouellette’s wonderful post. You’ll be a better shoe-lover for it!

__________

* Shouldn’t that be a reality show? “Heel or No Heel,” hosted by Sarah Jessica Parker. And we’re bidding on shoe-boxes containing shoes ranging from your cheapest knock-off Crocs to the most extravagant Loubous or Balenciagas. Just a thought!

1 Comment »