Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Shoe-revelation

The secret passion that many women have harbored for years, I have escaped for most of my life.

Earlier in the new millennium, my obsession was jeans. There was a two-year period where I probably grossed about 20 pair. Hearing brand names like 7 For All Mankind, True Religion, Citizens for Humanity, and even Levi’s, did for me what Red Bull and Vodka did for others. I’m happy to say that I’ve moved on, and in the last year my denim-fetish has waned. I’m less about the label now, and more about the cut and fit. Since last fall I’ve added just one new pair to my collection (True Religion Jane in Dusty Road) I’m proud to say.

No, it wasn’t jeans that I was spending my hard-earned dollars on and living paycheck-to-paycheck in for this past year, it was boots. [Pause to reflect on the beauty of the boot] As I was saying, it was about a year ago that the boot entered my consciousness, specifically the FLAT boot in all its glory. It started with a supple pair of brown leather riding boots from JCrew and escalated into a collection that included the brown cuff boot, flat black riding boot, tan flat riding boot (for spring, of course), and short black engineer slouch boot from Frye. Boots are possibly the top reason I look forward to fall and winter outfits, and I’m always a little sad when the mercury starts to rise and my calves begin to – well – get a little too warm in the leather shaft of a boot. There’s only so much a pair of Spanx knee-highs can be expected to do.

Recent spring/summer purchases have driven me to become acutely aware of my [lack of] spring/summer shoes. It’s abominable, really. I have one pair of grey leather mary janes (closed toe), and pair of brown leather strappy wedge sandals that are least 3 years old (that’s 21 in NYC street years), and a variety of beaten-up flat sandals. I have always thought of summer as that season for which you buy “disposable clothing.” The heat, the sweat, the grime of the city takes a toll on clothes and shoes. When it’s 85 and humid, you get one wear out of a tshirt or dress and then it’s right back into the wash. Woolite and Ivory Snow help stave off fading and breaking down, but not for long. The same goes for shoes. I’m meticulous about keeping them clean and polished, but the city streets are hard, giving them a very short shelf-life. I have many friends who refuse to where an open sandal or flip flop in the city in the summer. And rightfully so – the germs that are bred and baked on the street on a hot summer day…ugh…it’s like the city becomes one giant petri dish of bacterial infection. I, however, laugh in the face of infection and regularly wear sandals that are so thin my friend always says they’re no better than wearing a pair of tissues wrapped on your feet. I’ll refrain from providing a lesson in hygiene, but know that regular pedicures help stave off any issues.

Enter The Wedge. In Webster’s a wedge is defined as a piece of hard material with two principal faces meeting in a sharply acute angle. I’m writing to Miriam asking if she would add to the definition with: brilliantly designed woman’s shoe that adds height, without sacrificing comfort, and style without breaking the bank. Not sure about the rest of you, but I’m onto something here for the summer months. Wedges can vary in height from 2 inches to 4, keeping lovely manicured feet above dirty, germy pavement. Leather, pleather, linen, canvas, open-toed, sling-backed, ankle-strapped, suede-lined slides, wood-soled, or flexible-synthetic-soled wedges…pick your poison. I’m agog at the number of varieties there are, really. Espadrilles and Kork-Ease are the classics, but look for brands like Frye, Seychelles, Charlotte Ronson, Matiko, Chie Mahara, and others churning out some modern classics, in every color combination imaginable. I suddenly need a different pair for each summer frock and outfit! At long last I understand woman’s obsession with shoes!

Though NYC is breaking records for temps today, there’s a good two months left of boot-wearing here in the northeast. And though I’ll savor every last moment of the season, I won’t be caught without when that first warm sunny spring day hits.