Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Studs, studs, everywhere...

...and I don't own any.

At least I don't think so. I have to go raid my closet, but I'm almost positive that I don't have one pair of shoes that is adorned with spikes or studs. I have clothes that fit that category, but I think as far as shoes go the closest I get is a bunch of buckles or hardware.

Christian Louboutin has an amazing pair of heels that not only have studs, but also bows, which are covered in studs. The Clou Noeud Spikes.

I only own polka dot shoes with bows. Two pair actually, and they're disappointingly less lethal than Louboutin's shoe. I guess I could beat someone to death with them, but I can't stab them with the cute little bows.  

Today it was also announced that Ruthie Davis' will be coming to Neiman Marcus (which is great if you don't have a boutique that sells her stuff in your area). The shoe they advertised this new with was so great it prompted a mid-afternoon Facebook post, and some general designer obsessing. (Really, I love every shoe on her website). The picture was a 5" Swarovski Crystal and spike spike heel with a covered platform bootie. Who doesn't need that?

I don't even own a bootie or ankle boot anymore. I used to, but I got tired of them so I threw them out, or sold them. Something. It doesn't matter. They were black, and dull. They were not covered in the fabulousness that Davis and Louboutin have been creating and torturing me with. They didn't have bows, sparkles, peep toes or anything!

Stupid boots. No wonder I got rid of them. They were an obviously inferior shoe.

I'm not entirely sure of the proper occasion to wear the a fore mentioned metal adorned shoes, but I am sure I can find one. Or five. Hell, if I had those shoes I would wear them to vacuum, dust and do dishes. Not that I generally do any those things, but if my fiancee is reading, maybe he'll buy them for me in the hopes I will (but I won't).

In reality I'd probably just wear them while I boss around the cleaning lady (which I also don't have) and drink martinis.

OK, I'd just wear them while drinking martinis. That's the only part of the whole scenario that's realistic.

Monday, July 26, 2010

New old stuff

This weekend I went shopping in my own closet. Convinced that I had sandals that were a little more 1st birthday party friendly than something with a platform, I started digging through the blue bin.

The blue bin is my answer to keeping shoe boxes. It's basically a giant shoe box that I rotate shoes through on a seasonal basis. Or at least that's the theory. In actuality it ends up being stuff I don't wear a lot, shoes I forgot about, and boots that are big and have laces that get tangled in everything and don't fit anywhere.

Strappy black sandals; I forgot about you.
Chinese print sandals: I love you, but do remember you scrape my foot and only go with a few outfits.
Zebra print Kenneth Cole! I totally forgot about your existence. Let's be friends again.
Black satin sandals with rhinestones and a ribbon tie; you don't go with anything. 
Doc Martens that have been in hiding since the '90s, buckle patent leather boots that I bought after getting into a fight with the sales guy at 99th Floor in Chicago, and lots, and lots of black shoes. Why is there so much black in storage?

Elated that the summer isn't over I pulled out pair after pair of sandal, each one more forgotten and less functional than the previous.

By the time it was over, I had found more than eight pairs of shoes, probably won't wear half of them, was disappointed that I ever bought kitten heels, and still hadn't found something entirely casual and appropriate enough for Princess's 1st birthday.

But she doesn't really care what shoes I was wearing, because she got to eat cake.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Charitable acts of ugly

A few weeks ago I asked a co-worker if she wanted to take part in a charity 5K run/walk our office was participating in.

The exchange went back and forth via email as we pressured one another to participate, and finally I got this:   You will have to wear gym shoes though.  Can you handle it?

Thanks for the vote of confidence. 

I am happy to report that I not only did the whole thing in more than 80 degree heat with humidity that can only come from a swampland, but I'm not sore today, and my feet didn't shrivel up and fall off for wearing a pair of New Balance cross trainers. 

Today I am back in heels, and no, there will not be photos of athletic shoes. They're all ugly. I look at the whole event, from wearing athletic shoes to walking/jogging 3.6 miles in almost 90 degree weather all part of my charitable contribution.  

Monday, July 19, 2010

Fighting gold

Sometimes shoes pinch a little. Or they pull, or the buckle digs into your toe, the back chafes your ankle, and so on. The issues you can have with shoes is endless. This being said, discomfort in the name of fashion is something I put up with a little more than other people. So when the gold sandals I got a few weeks ago were not all that comfortable, I ignored it.

Saturday I was getting ready to go out, and was trying on gold shoes to wear with my black Armani tank. Gold slingbacks, bronze mules, or gold strappy gladiators. There were multiple stops in the evening, so it had to be something that could go from house warming to punk pretty seamlessly while pulling out the gold and bronze sequin detail of the top.

Gold gladiators it was. Never mind the fact that my toes went numb last time I wore them. This time would be different. This is what I told myself as I jammed my feet in them, when one fell off the bed and landed on the floor sole side up; and there, staring at me from the floor was the little print that answered all my questions.

6 1/2.

I wear a 7 dammit! I ordered a 7, and stupidly, I assumed that people knew how to do their job and send me the size I ordered. I didn't check. I could get my foot in them, so they obviously fit, even if it hurt a little. And now that I've worn them there's no returning them. So the problem is not my fat little feet, it's that someone in the fulfillment department is an idiot.

Michael Antonio, I hate you every time I wear these.

By the end of the night I was pretty sure the pinky toe on my right foot had fallen off (you don't need that one anyway), and I couldn't wait to get those off. My feet even hurt the next morning at the monthly Sister's Brunch at Nordstrom.

Two days later I'm still not sure my feet have recovered, but the feeling in my little toe finally came back.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

My superhero nemesis

If I was a super hero I would have a rockin' costume.

It would probably be something that's a sassy mix of club clothes and jazzersize with a bunch of hardware thrown in for good measure, and of course sequins. And my superhero self would wear a bitchin' pair of heels to fight crime and injustice. After all, good shoes are a staple of super hero costumes.

Wonder Woman had knee high red boots, Cat Woman wore black stilettos that were part of her unitard, She-Ra had gold knee high boots, and Jem wore a more sensible pink pump. (It's hard to be multiple people in a day if you can't run a little in your shoes).

They all also had their nemesis, and had to battle evil while looking good. You never saw Wonder Woman or Super Girl falling all silly in their shoes, and Jem never tripped while booking it around the music studio to change identities and foil the Misfit's plan. She-Ra never had a hair out of place.

Which brings me to my nemesis. The one thing in the world that can really cause aggravation and stop me at every turn (sometimes literally).

Those damn orange nubby things before crosswalks all over the city. I don't know if other cities have these, but Chicago has got them all over, and no one is even really sure what function they serve other than to make me fall over.

I don't have particularly long legs, so I can't step over them (especially in the clothes I wear), and you can't go around them without walking in the grass (certain death), so every woman in the city in anything other than a pair of flats must teeter over these things with the utmost care, because their one function is to try and break your ankle.

Really, if anyone knows what these are for I'm all ears. I thought maybe it was to alert blind people to the fact that there's a crosswalk, but they seem to only be in residential areas and not downtown where traffic is most congested and you can get run over even if you are paying attention. Maybe there's a large number of blind people in Chicago, or maybe the city just couldn't think of anything else to spend their money on.

It could also be to slow down speed-walking hipsters and the occasional overzealous nanny who is pushing the stroller too fast.

Until I know what these are, and I get a convincing argument for their existence, I will continue to hate them. If I was on my way to fight crime and injustice (or go to the grocery store), it's those damn things that slow me down every time.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Rolling out at weddings

A few years ago I was traveling for work and was stopped because my suitcase came in above the 50 lb max. It was like 51 lbs or something. So the baggage handler asked me to open  it up, take a pair of shoes out and transfer them to my other bag.

This would not work, I explained. There were no shoes in the overweight bag, they were all in the second bag.

He stared at me slack jawed for a moment and told me to forget about it and put the bags through.

Shoes generally aren't portable. They're bulky, don't pack well, and if you have heels like mine, you risk stabbing your luggage or ripping something. Sure, it's a pain, but it's a price to pay for having a pair of shoes for every outfit.

Luckily, someone has solved all of our shoe packing problems, and come up with a rollable shoe. Rolleez. Please note the sarcasm. Jury is still out on this one people. 

A friend sent them to me and said she's buying them for her bridesmaids so they don't all change into flip flops at the wedding.

Now, they're better than the slipper things I thought she was talking about, but they're still shoes that come in a roll. Though they do claim to have a "Signature Collection" that comes in nine different colors with clever names like "Boisterous Black" and "Couture Copper."

How very chic of them.

While I'm inclined to agree that they're better than actual slippers, and better than some flip flops, I generally stay away from shoes that come in small, medium and large. And shoes that have enough flexibility to roll. Fashion doesn't have to be that functional.

Then again if given the choice between bridesmaids wearing these or wearing Crocs (which Figgy has threatened), I'll take Rolleez

Thursday, July 8, 2010

No new adventures, pain and doggy play dates

It seems that the Fourth of July weekend put every blogger in America on vacation. News, politics, fashion...it was only the people with kids who had anything to blog about, and even then it generally took until Monday for us to see pictures of Suzy and Billy in their red, white and blue waving sparklers at the camera.

I did not wear red, white and blue, but there are pictures of me waving sparklers at the camera.

Even my shoes were bored this last weekend. I spent the entire time in a pair of platform sandals, previously designated for BBQs and the like, and managed to do very little except eat, sleep, spend some time with the family (including my princess niece, who learned all about purses) and hang out with my dog.

So last night it was it was wine and puppy play date with Laura and Axl (you can deduce who is the human and who is the dog), and again, no shoes because Laura hurt her toe when it lost against a door in a fight. Right in time for summer and sandal season.

The dogs then proceeded to sped the whole evening running over her foot as they chased each other around like maniacs.

At least she's still rocking a pedicure and cute flip flops with that band aid. Maybe we can find one with glitter for special occasions this summer.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Gladiators and t-shirts

My younger sister, Figgy (not her real name), and I try to do something good for ourselves once a week, so we attend a yoga classes, then grab dinner for sister chat.

Last night was no different, except I also found a way to get free booze involved. Enter a t-shirt release party.

Chicago Designer Anna Hovet released her new Signature Tee collection, and in an effort to support local designers and get a free glass of wine, we decided to stop there on the way to dinner after yoga. Plus it was literally around the corner from me at Black Market Cavier, which I had not gone into yet because I was afraid of finding cute things and spending all my money.  

Of course we had to change after yoga class. You don't think I'd go to a t-shirt release party in yoga pants and flip flops, do you? So we stopped home to change, touch up the makeup, and make ourselves a little more presentable.

I rocked a pair of leggings and gladiator heels (not sandals), and we traipsed over there to look ridiculous among wannabes and those who fancy themselves to be quite hip (we probably fall into the latter category).

It should also be noted that Figgy wore a shirt that had a bunny on it, but that's a separate story entirely.

Once we got there I went through the racks of clothes, and found a jacket I am now coveting (and I know exactly what shoes I'll buy when I get it). Figgy actually got a shirt by the designer, which says "Keep trying, I'm worth it," in Norwegian and has a hand drawn image of a girl carrying balloons.

Very cute. It makes me think of Nena and "99 Luftballons." And it's a step up from the bunny shirt in my opinion. 

Now she just needs to find the Norwegian part of the city for anyone to know what the shirt says. And yes, I made her take a picture of my shoes. Because nothing says t-shirts like a pair of heeled gladiator shoes covered in silver hardware.