A very different kind of monkey feet...

 

 

These appeared in my shoe calendar on the day we left for New York.

 

I thought that was slightly applicable.

 



The quest for spikes. (Or: Wishes unfulfilled.)

On my list for New York was the perfect pair of spiked stillettos. They were the one thing I didn't get.

My heart is broken.

I don't think I was asking too much. All I really wanted was a little something like this:

 

... but with a smaller price tag. Love you, Mr. Louboutin, but I'm not there yet.

 

This is not the first time I've shown you spikes, if you remember. I've had spikes on the brain for awhile...

 

So, having thought long and hard about the lack of metal in my life, I decided it was time for some spikes of my own.

 

But, this was not in the stars. Every pair of spiked heels I came across were either the wrong colour:

 

Or too expensive...

 

Or tacky leopard print...

 

 

Or, in the case of the black beauty below the Jersey Shore mess going on up there, the wrong size...

 

Or, the studs were too short, too long, too big, too small, or too ugly.

 

 



It seemed everyone was getting studs and spikes but me! There were even skull-studded shoes for men! This just seemed unfair.

 

So, I figured I'd give the whole thing up, and just buy the Heel Condoms (actually these are panty-style) that I had showed you previously.   

 

But, wouldn't you know it, I couldn't even find those. Check the website, I dare you. They're no where to be found!

 

And, after 10 days of looking for the perfect spiked heels, I gave up. For now...

 

There's no time like November to check out those sale racks... Watch out New York, I'm coming back...

Sky's the limit

More tales of New York!

One of the things I noticed, while I was wandering the streets of New York City, was how often shoes were used in advertising, art, and the creative ways they were used in displays. So, I present, a post in photos: A creative shoe-case from New York!

 

 

These tasty bread shoes were on a sign at one of the café/delis that are everywhere in New York, either Au Bon Pain or Europan, or something like that. Delish!  

 

My mum and I stumbled upon the Museum of Sex randomly in our travels one evening. These were on display, and yes, those are penis sneakers. And, for the bargain price of $300.00, you, too could have peeners on your feet. Hooray?

This is a great and creative way to display your shoes... Can you imagine a whole room lined with these? Much prettier than my shoe racks, but I'm not sure how I would be able to get my extensive collection to fit... This window was at Cole Haan, and their Chelsea pumps are actually named for NYC DJ Chelsea Leyland, and are extra flexible (and hopefully extra comfy!), claiming that you can wear them for 20 hours! I didn't get a chance to test drive them...

 

I want this on my wall at home. At World According to 9 (part of the Nine West world) on Madison.

 



 

 

Blocks and blocks of Cons. Not really much of a sneaker person (though I do have a pair of pink ones from a long time ago), I thought these made for an interesting window. Taken somewhere in Soho.

 



Monkey feet (or: the lesser of two evils)

New York story the first: the monkey feet.

As I told you, my mum had been having trouble with her orthotics, and was wearing them in a pair of those Sketchers Shape-Ups (which are pretty much the reason she fell last trip, the soles of those things can be precarious...). She was suffering from cruel and unusual punishment, walking on them 10-12 hours daily, and had had enough.

So, while I was shopping for snuggly sweaters for my man, she snuck into the shoe section and attempted to find something sensible (read: comfy, but inevitably ugly as hell). She found a pair of really awful fleece-lined clogs, a pair of less awful pseudo-Mary Janes in tan leather, and a pair of horrific Fila toe-shoes in baby blue.

Thankfully, the clogs for vetoed, the toe-shoes didn't fit and the Mary Janes made the cut. They worked spendidly... until the next day, when the blisters kicked in.

Slightly enamoured with the toe-shoes (which I had not-so-lovingly dubbed "monkey feet"), she struck out in search of a pair that did fit, and we found them, in Soho. Adidas, this time, which I suppose is a little better...

 

Once we had located the things, we went through a very round-about process of men's sizes masquerading as women's sizes and finally, my mum found the ones that fit her tootsies...

 

And, her feet breathed a sigh of relief, while I promised that I "wouldn't not be seen with her" while she was wearing them.

 

I tried them on, too, a purely academic exercise. I'm not above doing unpleasant research to please my readers.  

 

Verdict? They're weird. I used to wear toe-socks when I was about 12, and these were a lot like those, but more sturdy. I won't be rushing out to buy them anytime soon, but my mum swears they were the most comfy thing she's ever put on her feet. So, there you go... If you're going camping, marathon walking, or need to walk several miles everyday on pavement, these may be for you.

I would most likely hate them less if they were black, or some less-conspicuous colour...

I guess these aren't so offensive... No, forget it, I hate them.

Also, my absolute worst nightmare embodied in footwear was realised during this trip. We were shopping in the massive dollar store, and stumbled upon these:

Not only are they monkey feet, but they're Crocs. Worse, they're foam Crocs from a dollar store. I shudder just looking at them.

One day in the very near future, I will write a post (read:rant) detailing exactly why I despise Crocs (and their wintertime partners-in-fashion-crime, Uggs), but for now, let me just say this: they should be outlawed.

The only redeeming quality about these is that they're childrenswear. Children can get away with wearing the most horrific things and they're still cute. I will admit there was one day where I put on a plaid dress and a pair of bright polka-dot socks, thinking they went together because they were both patterned. Give me a break, I was three.

Not quite like this, but I'll go with it. Think smaller, louder, and more multi-coloured.

Concrete jungle where dreams are made...

I have returned from the North American fashion capital! A little lighter in the pocketbook, I'll admit, but richer in experience and closet. It was a great ten days spend with my fabulous mummy, exploring, shopping, and enjoying!

Having taken four trips in the last three and a half months, I was on a bit of a budget, so it was a task to try not to end up in a total shopping free-for-all (I won't lie, I definitely broke the bank when I was there in May), but it was a blast concentrating on finding really fantastic pieces, instead of my typical shopping mantra of "it it looks good, buy it in every colour."

Also, while checking my email one night in our hotel room, I stumbled upon a sale on my shoe racks, so I have two more coming! I'm well over a hundred pair right now and I'm having the most ridiculous time trying to squash them all onto the racks I have. It will be grand to have a little space.

I have plenty of stories, but I'm going to spread them out a little so that I can tell them in more depth, so I'm going to skim over the events of our trip and then elaborate later.

The first four days were spent "working." And, by that I mean buying for my mum's shop (which is changing location and expanding by three times the square footage, so we had a lot of space to fill), and picking up a few pieces for myself. I had written myself a list before I left and managed to get just about everything (I still don't have my spiked heels, but that's a tale for another day), including a great pair of black flat boots to get me through the fall and a beautiful red reddingote.

Through all this, we were wearing "comfortable" shoes. My mum wound up having trouble with her orthotics though, and having to buy new "sensible" (read: not super pretty) shoes to walk the 70-80(one day it was actually over 100) blocks we would typically cover in a day. Again, we'll get to those beauties another day. I stuck with my indestructible hot pink rubber flip-flops. Also, not super pretty, but they get the job done. Needless to say, at the end of each day, it was time to soak our soles and love our toes a little.

I'm sure this photo looks incredibly familiar, as the New-York-end-of-day-foot-bath has become a bit of a ritual with us. Believe me, it's well deserved, and much appreciated.

Of course, the day we walked over 100 blocks was the same night as Fashion's Night Out, which is always a spectacle and a delight, if only to people watch and see the culture come to life. I wore flats, mum wore wedges, and many a girl that night was in stilettos. Fortunately, I was still vertical at the end of the night, while mum was dying in her wedges, and I'm pretty sure I saw every limping stiletto-clad girl similtaneously reach into her impossibly small clutch at the stroke of 11, to produce a ratty plastic shopping bag and replace the offending footwear with flats in one fluid movement. Those were ladies in dire need of some Rollasoles...

Just sayin'.

That's not to say that our feet weren't also in serious need of some R&R. There was one day that we stopped for a quick peek at our shopping directory and thought to ourselves, "Damn, I could totally go for a pedicure right now..." And, low and behold, we turned around and saw this:

 

It's hard to read, but the top line says "Mani + Pedi + 10 min massage: $40." We were sold.

 

A well-earned pedicure. Having the knots rubbed out of my poor soles was amazing. The mid-trip mani-pedi is definitely going to have to be a new New York ritual. And, the girl who did mine did some fancy twirly thing with tissues to make the toe separators pictured here. I need to figure out how to do that...

The last two days were spent wandering about the city, gathering the last bits for the store, walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, and enjoying Little Italy. All in all, a smashing success (less the utter failure to find the perfect spiked stiletto!), including walking the last 40 blocks back to the hotel with the impending threat of thunder showers (which turned out to be mostly idle, on the thunder-front at least.).

Then, it was time to come home. And, after a long day of travelling yesterday, it was good to get back.

Now, I just need to unpack, and I can tell you some real stories!