Day 15 – Shoes or Sandals or Boots or What?

Shoes should be fun and interesting. Boring shoes are a pointless waste of leather. To this end,  I like to look at a pair of shoes and try to figure out the designers underlying design inspiration.   I suspect, in this case,  that the designer was quite enamoured of Scottish Highland Country Dancing shoes.

Now as you can see, Scottish Country Dancing Shoes are perfectly fine for having a wee burl through the Dashing White Sargent. One would not, however, want to be seen dead in them by the light of day.

Enter the Shoe of the Day, stage right. I have not been to the Riverside Club in Glasgow too many times, but if you ever make a journey to No Mean City (aka Glasgow) you will find that that mecca to ceilidh shenanigans is now gone. It was something a bit special, a bit odd and a bit out there in the Glasgow Club Scene. Just like that scene in Local Hero where the locals get up to all sorts of debauchery at the end of an evening of drinking and ceilidh dancing. Sláinte Mhath.

Day 14 – Prada Open Toed Silver Mules

It appears that we have yet another shoe addict in the family.  

My daughter, the Minx, has become quite enamoured of the Shoe Challenge. Of an evening while I am working on this blog she has a rare wee time to herself stepping in and out of my shoes, clomping about the kitchen and chortling mightily.  She also happily strikes a pose for photos, like this one that her dad took of her on Day 9.

I am experiencing a general increasing hostility from my daughter when my husband is around which probably means that she is in the nascent stages of an Electra Complex.  Notwithstanding this, I am hoping that instead of wanting to do away with me, she decides to join forces with me and bond over shoe shopping.Today, I was therefore delighted when she decided to make an appearance in the photo for the blog post today:

But for her intervention I would have nothing nice to say about these shoes other than that they are silver and that they are Prada.  They are possibly the most uncomfortable pairs of shoes that I own. Without fail, at the end of a day wearing these my toes resemble a washer woman’s fingers.   I think that this is the fault of the elasticated straps at the back. Like one size tights, one size shoe straps do no one any favours.  These are, however, are the closest thing to Barbie shoes that I possess, which may be why the Minx likes them.  Either that or she has her eye firmly fixed on the sharp heel and I should be taking a baseball bat to bed with me.

Day 13 Shoe Challenge – Really quite shiny boots

A little known facts about me (and my sister) – we once nearly got arrested after going to concert in the Glasgow  due to a pair of my boots.  These boots are not the boots that I was wearing at the time, in case you ask, I was wearing a pair of boots that I swapped for these.  Also, the fact that I was nearly arrested is probably all my mum’s fault. Let me explain.

I have a very clear memory of my mum dressed elegantly for a icy cold Montana winter day many years ago in a hand knitted Arran poncho and pair of  light coloured thigh high canvas boots.  Moving on a few years, every panto season at the Kings Theatre brought the visual spectacle of Glaswegian male actors dressed in womens clothing and pretty girls playing boys in long boots.  So for many years,  I had an unrealised hankering for very long boots.

When I was in Second Year at University, I picked up the Paisley Daily Express, not known for its in depth news coverage nor its cutting edge fashion spreads.  So it was quite a shock to check  out its Spring Fashion page on that day to see the model wearing one a very smart trench coat and a pair of tight, zip up, high heeled thigh length bright red boots.  Nowadays nothing would have possessed me to buy these or at least having bought them thereafter wearing them to tax lectures, shopping and so on.  However, at the time I thought I looked like Edie Sedgwick. Only shorter, not blonde and (I have to face facts) nowhere near as stylish.

Those red high boots had a curious effect on people – particularly Paisley people. No-one actually said anything to me, but I got the distinct feeling that the majority of people wanted to shout abuse at me or burn me at the stake.  It was not a comfortable feeling. The final death knell for those boots was rung after that fateful concert in the Barrowlands. My sister and I were standing outside the C&A on Argylle Street in Glasgow about 11.30 pm waiting for our dad to give us a lift home.   A police van slowly came to a stop and two members of the local constabulary asked us what we were up to.  It was all looking a bit tense until we explained that we had been attending The Damned concert  at the Barrowlands.

Not long afterwards the boots were put out to pasture, making an occasional appearance at the odd Halloween party.  Then one day a friend of mine offered to swap me these boots for the red ones. I agreed quickly then was a bit sad and a bit relieved to see them go.  These are much easier to run for buses in and I do not get quite so many angry villager looks when wearing them.

Guest Shoe Post by Amy Gray: Iron Fist Zombie Stomper Platforms

This week I am delighted, thrilled and honoured to have a shoe post from Amy Gray (@amoir on Twitter). My husband thinks that I have a huge crush on her. He is right.

Amy has just published a bloody good book “How To Be A Vampire” which is out now in Australian book stores and online. Please buy it immediately (I did), hurt your friends until they buy it, cry and threaten self-immolation at bookstores if they don’t stock it and compliment any person you see reading it on their fabulous taste.

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I hide my love of shoes. Point of fact, I cruelly deny it like some hairshirted Lutheran desperate to deny myself yet another indulgence (of which I already have too many). Generally, I find it impossible to find attractive shoes in Melbourne. This is possibly because I refuse to go searching or spending oodles of money, but also shows this windy city does not want me skittering about in towering inches of whimsy.

After an insane bout of working three contract jobs and writing a book at once (please refer to my previous point about hairshirts), I decided to treat myself to an online purchase at 3 o’clock one morning. I was quite possibly a bit manic at this point, so it seemed utterly logical to buy some fuck-off zombie heels from the adorably dark surf house, Iron Fist.

Their shoes are sublime. Whoever it is that designs their ladies line has earned some vodka and over-the-sweater action from me. Garish colours that are both aggressive and endearing, with beautiful imagery that could easily veer into tackdom but instead screams “Fuck off! Look at me!”

Strutting about in these babies on the street is huge fun. The reaction to them is priceless (some will chat with you about them, others will simply purse their lips) though my friends hate me for wearing them out as I walk slower than usual but quite frankly I am sure they’re just jealous. And so they should be. The shoes are fucking fabulous and come with teeth, rotting flesh and pretty black satin bows.

Strangely enough, buying the shoes made me realise my wardrobe was too puny to give adequate showcase to them so I ended up spending far too much money on designer dresses. They’ve converted and transformed me: I’m now a wriggling, strutting and occasionally stumbling mess of femininity.

After acquiring these magnificent undead beasties and dresses, I went over to Dublin and ended up gorging on shoes, buying another bag to bring them all home. European shoes are much more aligned to my personal style and, often, quite cheap. Gorgeous little spatzed felt ankle boots, petite black patent leather ballet points with heels and sculptural black canvas boots with a hidden heel (everything has a heel, I’m desperate for the calf-flattering). My fashion style has changed from cyber-street urchin-wanker to demented designer damsel.

Mind you, I can’t help but think of the shoes that got away: Pumas’ homage to Godzilla and cohorts. I desperately need to locate the Mothra sneakers lest they haunt my fetishistic dreams forever.

Day 12 Shoe Challenge – Black Peep Toe Shoes

At the moment, I am feeling very homesick for  Scottish Autumn mornings – the frost on the grass, the icy freshness of clean clothes dried in the chill night wind, looking out for the first Christmas tree to make an appearance.  The cold air and the dark mornings are my Christmas cues, which I have lost in Australia. I constantly miss the last date for sending Christmas cards because my body tells me that November in Australia is really July back home.   I also have serious winter clothing envy. In October in the Northern Hemisphere, women are cracking out the woolly tights and boots again.  I love boots. Now that Spring has well and truly sprung, I have probably reached le point de non retour as it were for the wearing of boots and it saddens me.   Soon I will have to eschew closed toe shoes entirely in favour of the fresh air friendly wide open spaces of  sandals. I have one or two tricks still up my sleeve until that point – yesterday my secret weapon was a pair of black suede peep toe pumps.  Peep toes are a wee bit rude but never too obvious.  I reckon that they are the shoe version of a black lace camisole peeking out under a black corporate suit jacket for a woman.

Day 11 of the Shoe Challenge – Wedding Shoe Diaries Part 2

(continued) … and this is the second pair of shoes that my dad picked out.   What I find interesting is that my dad chose two almost identical shoes. His view was that you cannot rely on a pair of strappy sandals on an Important Day. Also,  he told me that I would look rather better in the high heeled version today than the low heeled version below. (My father has an inherent dislike of low heeled shoes which, he says, make women look odd). Knowing how much ceilidh dancing dancing was planned it was very kind of him to ensure that I did not end up in the floor.  As it transpired, neither  were worn on the day. If I ever get round to sorting through the multitudes of boxes of shoes & detritus in my garage, I may be able to share the shoes that I did wear with you plus some ceilidh photos.

Day 10 of the Shoe Challenge – Wedding Shoe Diaries Part 1

A couple of weeks ago a guest blog post by Thea pushed my readership statistics up by about 200%. She mentioned three of her favourite pairs of shoes including her wedding shoes.

Just about every woman on the planet has fond memories of her wedding day shoes. Most women spend months and sometimes years planning their weddings. A huge amount of time is devoted to choosing and buying their wedding dresses and shoes. I am not one of these women.  In under three months, I managed to organise a new job, a visa to Australia, the sale of a house and my wedding.  The key was delegation.  The major shoe decisions were delegated to my dad.  I showed him the dress and sent him off in the general direction of the shops located at Buchanan Street in Glasgow. This is not as daft as it may seem as my dad (1)  loves to shop and (2)  is the only parent that I have that has any interest in shopping and shoes.  He chose two pairs on the basis that you can never underestimate how many pairs of shoes a bride will need… this is the first pair (to be continued)

Guest Shoe Post – Boys and Shoes

For a number of weeks now I have been trying to secure the services of a male guest blogger prepared to write about his shoes.  How difficult could this be? Everyone wears shoes and men are very particular about which shoes they wear. Surely there is at least one chap prepared to wax lyrical about his footwear?  Apparently not.

Here were some of the responses that I received:

I have no talent for words, therefore I have no desire to blog. 140 characters, is my limit………

You really asking the wrong man. My last fave pair were bought at Lowes, because they fitted, unlike the more expensive brands.

You’ve lost me, what are shoes? What you wear when not wearing thongs?

What is a shoe, other than a thong that costs more and that stops you stepping in unpleasant things?

So I decided to go straight to the five year old for a comment as there was a point in time when he was quite into shoes:

See Exhibit A below:

This interest in shoes, pink clothing and womens hats continued up until very recently.  Then all of a sudden, about half way through his Kindergarten year, my son began to say things like Pink is for girls and That is something that girls would do.  He has started to gender identify by putting his arms over the backs over chairs and say things like Those are my girl friends while using the top of his head to point at his female classmates.

So despite doing my best to encourage my son to get in touch with his feminine side he is still more drawn to boy things (cars, trains, camouflage pants) and away from girlie things like high heeled shoes.  See Exhibit B below:

Which are your favourite shoes?  These sandals.

Why are those your favourite shoes?  I can put them on by myself.

Is there anything else that  you like about them?  Dunno. Can I get ice cream now?

Day 9 – Alan Pinkus Metal Heeled Charcoal Suede Pumps

Today the Boss and I went shoe shopping.  I was absolutely delighted when she listened to my various advices and picked up two very high wedged heeled shoes – one pair in red patent leather and another in Oscar the Grouch green suede. Oh, and the white patent cutwork brogues that she chose are going to look very Katharine Hepburn matched with wide legged linen trousers this summer.

It occured to me while she and I slipped in and out of about 40 pairs of shoes each that I have absolutely no idea what my taste in shoes is. It is probably fair to say that the only thing that feeds my obsession is an aversion is to uninteresting shoes.  Even when I buy a plain court shoe I want it to distinguish itself. This can be by means of an unexpected button or bead, a different colour or texture to  the lining or possibly a slightly whimsical heel.   The Shoes of  the Day today (which the shopkeeper loved) are from an Alan Pinkus Shoes sale about 6 years ago. Alan Pinkus shoes  are always styled in a  feminine, almost overly girly way but each style has a little something, a wee hidden surprise that always intrigues me.  The  heels of these otherwise plain suede pumps are curved in gold tone parentheses and pay tribute to the Comma Heel created by Roger Vivier.

Day 8 Shoe Challenge – Black Patent Platform Sandals

I bought these black patent leather with the woven open toes from  Schuh in Glasgow in 1997. I have avoided wearing them for a long, long time as your common or garden platform shoes date very quickly. Also, I thought that I might just look a little bit ridiculous strutting about the office in 6 inch high heels.

However, after writing Celebrity Fetish Dress Ups and spotting a veritable bevvy of girls tottering drunkenly about Sydney in platform soles yesterday, I was inspired to give them another outing.

The world does look a bit different from up there particularly when you are normally a bit on the short side (I am 165 cm/5 foot 4 inches barefoot). Suddenly I can (nearly) look my husband in the eye, which freaks him out.  The downside? It takes a lot of dedication and practice to walk in elevated soles and heels. I had to walk a bit more slowly and regally today than I usually to avoid falling on my backside.  As I had new clients coming in, I  played it safe and matched the shoes with a simple black wrap dress and an antique brooch that belonged to my gran.  If the new clients were bemused to see a lawyer wearing platform shoes, they certainly kept this to themselves.