ShoeSense

Out of the closet!

This is what flew out of my closet the other day (and into the consignment boutique down the street). This pair of gold leather Etienne Aignier were sexy as hell, in all their 3 3/4" stiletto glory, so I couldn't resist them 3 years ago, when I snatched them on a super-clearance-we'll-pay-you-to-get-these-shoes-out-of-here kind of sale. I've been known to be a sad sucker for clearance values, which cause me to fall into the capitalist trap of buying what I clearly don't need just 'coz I can afford it. At any rate, these heels were even more beautiful on my feet, and they fit well, so I threw the proverbial caution out the proverbial window and bought them.

Too bad nobody else got to see them out of the house, because I was never able to wear them anywhere else. Wobbling around the bedroom in them, trying to figure out whether I could stand up for more than 10 minutes, it became clear that no, I couldn't. And they're dressy in that caliente summer way, begging to be taken out for a night at the disco or something. I pondered briefly over wearing them to a wedding, but there was so much walking around and then standing around and then dancing involved, that I eventually opted for my trusted pair of Donald Pliner slides, dressy, but comfortable enough for a whole day of sightseeing topped with a night of dancing.

Along with the ride went this pair of Anne Klein pumps:
These actually left the house on one occasion: walking to the neighborhoood bar, a mere 2 blocks away. About 100 feet into the endeavor, I thought I for sure was gonna die. The constrictive toebox, the low-cut vamp, the painful heel--aayyiiii! I didn't remember any of that when I had tried them in the shop! I limped into the bar but refused to get up for the entire evening. I blocked out the memory of the walk back.

The moral of the story? It's not that I don't like sharp heels. I do, but in an aesthetic sort of sense. They're beautiful. There's no denying it. They make your legs look beautiful. They spell SEX-AY! But don't you dare tell me that they're comfortable. I make special allowances for chunky heels, provided they're no higher than 2 3/4", but every time I see a woman in spiky 3- or 4-inchers trotting down the street, I KNOW, for a fact, that I see a woman in pain. And I can't help but wonder how on earth can you feel truly sexy when you're in pain. Anyone?

Yesterday I went into Philadelphia's Boyd's (19th and Chestnut) for the first time since they seriously re-vamped the women's section. My head exploded. There were about 3,000 pairs of Manolo Blahniks, Jimmy Choos, Ferragamos, etc. For the record, I don't recall seeing ANY flats or even low heels. Rarely, you could see a kitten heel, very pointy and thrust down the middle of the heel, which I personally find not that comfortable. But oh my God, were they gorgeous! I touched the luscious satins, felt the supple, colorful leathers, caressed the dainty curves, admired the ultrafine jewelry adorning the shoes, marveled at the artistry. But that's all they were to me: exhibits in a gallery.

I left without regrets.

posted by Cristina Hanganu-Bresch @ 7:06 AM