M.I.A.*

*Manolos In Action


Here are the new Manolos, out for their maiden run this Saturday:

I've had this jacket for ages & ages. It's a double-breasted tux jacket with satin shawl collar from Ann Taylor, of all places. A bit big on me and I've almost gotten rid of it several times over the years, but sometimes it really does the trick. Pretty classic, and wearing extremely well. This is my second bandage skirt -- found it on sale at Nordstrom and snapped it up. I want one in every color and five in black.


Thanks to Miss A for having a birthday so I had an excuse to wear my shoes. And thanks to the Weather Gods for FINALLY clearing things up so I didn't have a reason not to.

Photo: Style Spy

Do Your Homework, People

I just saw this ad on a fashion website:

I am not providing a link. They don't deserve to be linked to until they get their merde together.

What's wrong with this picture? Well, as anyone with even a passing interest in fashion and/or pop culture knows, that is a Manolo Blahnik shoe, not a Christian Louboutin shoe. Said shoe was a fairly important plot device in the "Sex and the City" movie and pretty much anyone who pays any attention to this sort of thing knows that. It doesn't really matter much, it's just really sloppy editing or whatever you want to call it and it offends me for that reason. It would be one thing if they'd used a shoe that wasn't so instantly recognizable, but... this is just dumb.

Because every Shoe Whore (yeah, I said it!!) worth her heel taps knows there are vast differences between Blahhniks and Louboutins. Even if you don't wear either of them, you know the difference when you see them. I'm a Manolo gal. I guess that makes me old school. Some of it is that I see Blahnik's shoes as more classically elegant and Louboutin's are more about the sex. Which is a debatable point, of course, and certainly a matter of taste. Mostly it's about the fact that Louboutin shoes never fit me. They seem to be made on an incredibly narrow last, and I have yet to ever squeeze my foot comfortably into a closed-toe shoe from this line. Even the peep-toes -- way too narrow. Actually, everything about them is narrow. Case in point:

This is Mr. Louboutin's Ginevra boot. Now, try to look past the zebra print, which I know a lot of folks will complain about, and just look at the shape of the thing. Which is stunning. I mean, that is a boot that wants to have sex with you. (Or anyone else who comes along with $2500 in his or her pocket. Yeah, seriously.) Last weekend, I tried on one of these bad boys at the sale at Neiman's, only the one I tried on was better -- it was a solid red leather and it? Was heart-stopping. I'm usually a size 39 or 39.5. I put on the 40.5 and it was still too narrow -- no way could I have worn that boot if I needed to actually use the -pedal part of my bipedal classification. Those are sittin'-down boots only, and I'd have to be carried from my closet (where I put them on) to the barstool on which I sat and accepted drinks from besotted men who plied me with Veuve Cliquot in the hopes of getting a piece of that boot-y (on purpose) action. But not only that -- I couldn't get the dang things zipped. Not even close. I will cop to having fairly muscular legs as a result of my running habit, but I can usually get a pair of boots zipped, at least. These boots? Ils ont ri de moi.* In French. Putain!**

At any rate, you need some pretty skinny pins to get into these boots. Way skinnier than mine.

Fear not for my shoe ego, however. Exhibit B:



Mmmmmm...

I went on a No Buy for the last part of 2009. It certainly contributed to the general crappiness that was Style Spy's 2009, but it needed to be done. It's a palate cleanser, for one. It also was a financial necessity, and did all my balances a world of good. And since I stuck to it awfully well (there were a few pairs of underwear here & there, and a couple of CDs), the Shoeniverse, once again, rewarded me. There was a sale, and a coupon, and when the dust settled... Oh, I'm not even going to tell you. It'll just upset you. Suffice to say they were a very, very good deal. Even more so considering they're the kind of shoes I can wear day in & day out, all year long, for the next 20 years. This weekend, they have a date to celebrate Ms. A's birthday by accompanying me to some as-yet-undecided fabulous watering hole to raise a glass of something bubbly. And I will be able to walk. Run, even. (In case anyone wants to chase me!)

Have a great weekend, everyone!


* "They laughed at me."
** Really? Do you need a translation for that?


Photos: Shopstyle.com, NeimanMarcus.com, Style Spy

Let's Hear It For the Boy

Well, color me tickled.

Last week I received an e-mail from a reader who enclosed a link to a garment he'd run across that made him "think immediately" of me. It was this gorgeousness:

It's Valentino. They call it a trench, but if it were lightweight enough, I'd wear it as a dress.

First of all, may I just express my delight in being associated with a garment this beautiful, fun, finely-made, unexpected and just all-around wonderful. So yes, friend Billy, I would wear that in a heartbeat, and I would look great in it, if I do say so myself. Now let's see, what shoes to pair with this delightful item?

I could play it safe and go with these:


These are such great shoes -- they go with nearly everything, which is why I bought them. (How clever of me, hmmmm?) Okay, no, I bought them because they left me stunned and stuttering with delight the moment I laid eyes on them and right then & there I wouldn't have cared if I had to walk around naked for the rest of my life in order to possess them.

These would be a little more fun & unexpected, certainly:



But, at the risk of falling prey to the Matchy-Matchy Monster, there would be the issue of whether or not the reds clashed. I think what I'd go with are these:


which are delightful if slightly ridiculous shoes, and have a winsome chunkiness that helps to balance the delicacy of the dress. But, what I'm really envisioning with it are these:

which would be faaaaaabulous. I love the strictness of the boot contrasted with the frilliness of the dress, and the echo of the cutouts. Of course, wearing these boots would entail owning these boots, and Style Spy is Not Shopping at present, even though said boots are on sale at her local Neiman Marcus. (There is also the small matter of not owning the dress, either, but we'll skip over that for the nonce.)

But back to my point. (I had one when I started, I swear...) I must say, I find it a uniquely gratifying experience when someone who is not me hits the nail on the head so completely when making a recommendation. When someone you know suggests or gives you the very perfect thing, it's an affirmation of your relationship: that person really knows you, really gets you. If it's someone you don't know, all the more credit goes to them for their perceptiveness and your ineffable, recognizable style. And (at the risk of perpetuating hurtful stereotypes), it's even more unexpected & delightful when said recommendation comes from an XY chromosome. Because I love the mens, I really do, but the shopping? Pretty hit-or-miss, in my experience. (And, in argument with yet another stereotype, which "team" said XY is batting for doesn't necessarily make a difference. Boys is boys.)

So three cheers for my new friend Billy, who honestly made my day with his e-mail. Thanks, Billy!

How about you guys? Has anyone ever given you a gift or made you a suggestion of clothing or accessories that was absolutely spot-on? Are any of you lucky enough to have a partner who is a talented gifter? Let me know!

Photos: bergdorfgoodman.com, Style Spy, neimanmarcus.com

PS... An hour post-post, I'm just dropping back in to say that while I enjoyed bringing this to you, I have given myself the King Hell earworm of the past month with the title. Here. Share my pain.

End of the Year Gorgeous

For what is probably my final post of 2007, I thought I'd present you with one of the most beautiful, perfect things I've run across lately.

Oh, my...

Watersnake and feather sandal from Maestro Manolo Blahnik. It's called "Dianamus." Style.com tells me they are available at select Neiman Marcus stores and I couldn't find them on the NM website, but if you decide that you can't live without them you can call (888)888-4757 and I'm sure some nice person at Neiman's Customer Service will help you spend your $755. (They're very helpful that way.)

Happy New Year to all my readers and those they love. May your 2008 be joyous, prosperous, and filled with beautiful shoes!

Photo: Style.com

The Lucky Few

The Dodo by Manolo Blahnik, a shoe that as we all know I have a long history with:

So long that my browser still remembers the address, and so today I found out that a few lucky people can get this baby on sale for $201.00, plus tax & delivery. But be warned -- it is a very few: they only have 5.5s in silver, and 8s in black and red. (And this shoe runs quite small, the 8 is more like a 7.5) So this post is probably more a tease as much as anything useful or informative, but I've got my fingers crossed that there's one lucky size 7.5 gal out there who just squealed with delight and whipped out her credit card. Oh, I really hope so.

Believe me, you won't regret it!

Pretty for Friday

I just wanted to send you off to your weekend with something beautiful to dream about.





It's bittersweet for me, since because this is a Christian Louboutin shoe I will probably never own it (not being able to squeeze my giant mudflap of a foot into it); but just knowing this shoe exists makes me feel better about the world.

My own foot is doing pretty well. I'll probably get my stitches out on Tuesday and while the foot is sore, it appears to be on schedule. Occasionally, I sneak into my closet to peek at my motivation for healing:


As yet virginal, they wink their little crystals at me in the darkness, waiting patiently. And last night, I had a dream about running -- oh, it was bliss. It may be the first time in my entire life when a pair of shoes from Saucony excites me even more than Manolo Blahniks. (Which tells you how completely off-kilter things have become.)

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Photos: Net-A-Porter.com, Style Spy

Confession and Confusion

I stand before you, my head hanging low in shame.

I have violated my No Buy.

In my defense, please look at them:

(Manolo Blahnik Prisca)

If that's not enough for you, consider this: 75% off. Yeah, you heard me. So. Yes, I broke my No Buy. But I feel that unthinking orthodoxy in any belief system leads to fanaticism and you don't want me to become a fanatic, do you?

I didn't think so.

Seriously, this was the sort of gift from the Shoeniverse that it would have been wrong -- and potentially dangerous -- to walk away from. When the Footwear Powers That Be toss you this sort of goodie, you dare not say no. Because the Shoeniverse might then decide that you are unworthy of its gifts and withdraw them (insert ominous organ chords here -- dun-duh-DUH!!!!!) forever. It was a test -- a test to determine whether my devotion to shoes outweighs my common sense.

I'm happy to report that it does.

Look! Look at them!



Tiny adorable sparkling crystal flowers! The merest slivers of shiny, warm golden leather! Swoon!!!

And a further confession -- my shoes appear to be smarter than me. I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to wear these little beauties. The straps on the back lend themselves to a variety of configurations and I can't quite decide how I'm going to work them. There are long cords that are obviously supposed to be ties, but there are also loops that are either supposed to function as slingbacks or as halters that go across the top of the foot. I'm not quite sure of how Maestro Blahnik envisioned these. So tell me what you think. (The black tights in the photos are a device to make it easier to see the straps, not -- I repeat, NOT -- a fashion statement.)

(Also, a warning. The rest of this post, unless you are as shoe-focused as I am, is going to strike you as meaningless, blithering gobbledegook. Unless you, like me, are the sort of person who can spend a good chunk of time tying and re-tying a scarf, adjusting the length/configuration of a long strand of beads, or fiddling with the placement of a brooch on a sweater, well... the following is probably just going to make you want to smack me. Just so you know, I'm actually a fairly well-rounded person -- I can talk politics or literature or food & wine... but this is my style blog, dammit! And here we talk shoes!!)


Halter across the back, tie around the ankles once with a bow at the back. I find the bow a little floppy and annoying.



Same thing, but wrapped around twice and knotted in the front. I think this is a nice neat option, but I'm not convinced I love the whole ankle-tie thing. I also did this in reverse -- halter across the front, wrapped twice and the small knot in the back. I think that's my favorite of the ankle-tie options.


This is the halter at the front and the ties wrapped once and bowed in the front. That bow is way too big.


Here I've got the halter across my instep and the tie knotted at the back of my ankle, without wrapping it around. Now, the length of these ties makes it obvious that they were supposed to be wrapped around the ankle at least once, but I'm kind of liking the bareness of this option -- this is about as little strappage (I just made up that word) as you can get and not have it be a slide. Very bare, especially on a naked leg, and that is always sexy. However, if I choose to do it this way, I'll definitely have to cut the ties so that they're shorter because that bow is out of control. And who am I to destroy the work of the Maestro?


This is the same thing in reverse -- halter at the back, tie on the front. Ditto comments about cutting ties.

So, what do you think? Or did you tune out four photos ago?

On a practical note, these are going to be my birthday shoes. I'm having a procedure on my foot to finally fix this endless plantar fasciitis foolishness on July 20, which will require me to wear (oh, I can hardly say it) one of those surgical shoes and then sneakers for something like two weeks. By the time my birthday rolls around in mid-August I should be cleared for high heels again (not to mention being able to wear flats without weeping -- hurrah!!!) and these seem like the perfect way to celebrate both my increasing stock of wisdom and maturity (::ahem::) AND my good-as-new, no longer painful, no-more-limping foot. So if you see me out & about in Austin in mid-August wearing these shoes and enjoying a crème brûlée, wish me joyeux anniversaire!

Photos: Style Spy

Also, There Were Some Really Pretty Shoes

First of all, this:




is a bit of overkill.

Seriously, when a shoe looks like this...



...you really don't need to sex it up for me. This is the sort of promotional technique one might want to save for things that you actually need to be talked into -- dentistry, for example, or getting your taxes done. That being said, it's not the worst way to encounter a shoe.

There were two or three other such, um, displays at the Manolos & Martinis event at Neiman Marcus last night. The beefcake & shoes were more easily available than the martinis (which were pink, by the way, and garnished with fruit of some sort, leading me to believe they weren't actually martinis). There was one cater-waiter who would periodically dash into the shoe department from I couldn't quite tell where (it looked as if he were coming from somewhere among the perfume counters -- perhaps the factices are actually filled with flavored vodka instead of colored water, which would make it a lot more fun to be a fragrance SA) with three glasses on a tray, which were invariably snapped up before he got anywhere near me. Just as well -- it's dangerous for me to drink around the shoes, and I don't usually have good luck with pink things in martini glasses. (I crossed them off the list after a truly disastrous cosmopolitan in a bar near Picadilly Circus in London two years ago.)

So, probably for the best I wasn't drinking when I ran into these...


... 'cause I wobbled a little in my Dodos when I saw them, even stone-cold sober. Oh, my goodness. Those are right up Style Spy's alley, aren't they? Black and white snakeskin, red leather heels and trim, and that gorgeous little red silk ribbon tassel... say it with me, now: swooooon!!! Also, those red ones with the pickstitching behind them aren't too shabby, either.

Speaking of snake, look at these:


Black and white watersnake. Good googly-moogly. The snakeskin of these boots is so thin & flexible I actually thought it was fabric at first. Stunning.

Behold the perfect slingbacks:



In red patent, of course with their black kidskin cousins behind them.

Sooooooo sexy:


Gunmetal gray leather in a highly polished metallic finish -- these things are so gorgeous. I don't even wear gray or silver (ever) but I wanted these shoes. There's been a lot of this "liquid metal" finish on shoes & bags the last season or so, and this is absolutely the best version I've seen. It tends to actually be too bright and shiny in regular silver or gold -- this pewter color was elegant and exciting at the same time.

These gorgeous things...



are aubergine patent. I had to put one on to get a photo of it (my red sandal was lurking jealously in the background) because they're so strappy and complicated that you can't really tell what's going on until you get a foot in them. (They're so strappy and complicated that it took me a good five minutes to figure out how to get them on my foot. But I'm sure if I owned them I'd work out a more efficient technique.)

And that brings us back to these:



which are one of this season's versions of Blahnik's perennial favorite, the jeweled d'Orsay pump, the shoes made famous in an episode of "Sex and the City." (And the prices have come up considerably since Carrie had hers stolen at a baby shower. Ah, the good old days.) The fabric is a metallic brocade that is figured like a reptile skin. I've been thinking that I'd really like a pair of these shoes -- they're classics that would go with pretty much any evening outfit I'll ever own for the rest of my life, and special enough that even a borderline ensemble will be turned into something wonderful just by being associated with them (sort of like some men I've dated). I think I'd like to hold out for the gold leather ones (fabric shoes make me nervous generally -- I'm one of those people who frequently kicks her heels together when walking, so the fabric gets scarred up), but if you're looking for a gorgeous classic with a twist, these are the ticket.

There were lots more pretty shoes there, Neiman Marcus carries an extensive selection of Manolo Blahniks (even at our teeny store in Austin) and these offerings are there for a trunk show. (The trunk show means that you have to order the shoes from the store -- they have display stock, but once you've fallen in love they have to order the shoes in your size.) If you want to see the pretties for yourself, stop in and ask for Ted -- he'll very sweetly help you out. And thanks to the kind folks there for allowing me to take photos -- customer service is really above and beyond at Neiman's.

Have a great weekend everyone! Wear your prettiest shoes for a while, even if it's just around the house. I promise, it'll make everything more fun.

Photos: Style Spy

The Healing Process

Cradling the shoebox in both hands, I entered my shoe guy's store today and said, "Something bad happened."

And David looked at them, made appropriately sympathetic noises, and then instantly performed five minutes of magic on the heel of my recently-sullied sandal:



It's not perfect, but you have to be up pretty close to the damage to see that it's there. And when you think about it, it's very rare that anyone is closer than five feet or so to another person's shoes. Even if you're standing right next to them, you still have to look down.

And so I'm feeling a lot better. The healing process (I would like a few kudos for resisting the obvious and terrible pun) has begun. Me and my Dodos are war buddies now -- we sustained some injuries, but we came out the other side and our relationship is all the more meaningful for having been through it together.

The really beauty part? David didn't even charge me. He's so sweet. So. If you live in Austin & you need some work done on your shoes, here's where you go:

Abraham's Shoe Repair
11005 Burnet Road #103
Austin TX 78758
512-835-1683
(The Donut Store is not part of the repair business, although that might be interesting...)

Go in, have a chat with David. He's the nicest guy. And while I was there today, I ran this issue by him, that a reader had sent in:

I recently bought some cute, brown leather flats from Nine West for work. They squeak when I walk. I have discovered the squeaking comes from when I put pressure on the heel. Is there anything I can do for this?

David says he'd really have to look at the shoe to figure out exactly what's going on -- chances are that there is something on the inside of the heel that's loose & rubbing together when you step down on it, hence the squeaking. Unfortunately, probably the only way to fix this is to take the shoe apart, and I don't know if you want to make that much of a commitment. However, Squeaky Shoe Syndrome is one of the most annoying afflictions you can be burdened with south of the ankles, so it may be worth it to you.

Thanks for all those who sent sympathy and lit candles for my poor mutilated Manolo. You're all very sweet.

Photos: Style Spy, daplus.us

The Sin of Pride

My Dodos:



Aren't they beautiful? I've had them for weeks now and not worn them. Not worn them out, I mean, I have periodically put them on and capered around the house in them, spending a lot of time checking out my own feet in the mirror. But last night I was going out to dinner with a friend and I decided to give them their maiden voyage. I had a few reservations because it rained off & on all day yesterday and these shoes, while gorgeous, are not what you'd call sturdy. As a matter of fact, my at-home capering had pretty well convinced me that these were shoes to wear when I didn't have to do much besides stand (or sit, even better) around & look nice. The heels are very high & spindly, and there is absolutely no padding in the forefoot. It's a few very beautiful layers of leather and that is it. I've put little silicone pads in the shoes, but there's only so much that will help.

But they looked beautiful and I felt great in them and swanned about all evening knowing that I had the best shoes in any room I was in, quite possibly the best shoes in downtown Austin. That's a nice feeling.

We had dinner, walked somewhere for a couple more glasses of wine, strolled around downtown Austin a tiny bit on our way back to the parking garage where my friend's car was located. I walked carefully. I always walk carefully. This is the great downside, for me anyway, of the fabulous shoes. Sidewalks are treacherous. Cobblestones are deadly. A crack in the asphalt can mean ruin. And I am not the sort of person who can meet a Serious Shoe Tragedy with A) humor and equanimity or B) readily available replacement funds.

And I was almost home free -- I mean I was literally 20 feet from the elevator that would take us to the parking deck, when I felt it happen.


Heel into a crack I didn't even see. I honestly think I felt this happen in the roots of my soul -- I knew before I even looked at the shoe that it was a disaster.

There has been no weeping and tearing of hair. But I woke up today and it was honestly the first thing I thought about. (Actually the first thing I thought was, too much wiiiiiiiine, but that's mostly just about the way my tongue had been turned into cardboard.) I'm pretty upset about it. The heel can be fixed, not as good as new, but the tear is pretty clean, not very big, and all of the leather is still there. I'm going to take the shoe to my new shoe guy and beg him with tears in my eyes to make her as pretty as she can be once again.

I'm really wishing those Smartheels thingies would have worked right now, although they weren't supposed to be used on patent anyway.

So I'm upset, but mostly I'm feeling philosophical. I'm trying to suss out just exactly what the Universe is trying to teach me through these shoes. Pride goeth before the fall? Don't get uppity? Possessions are only things and I should have nothing in my life that I am not prepared to do without? Is this a Big-Picture kinda thing that I need to know or more shoe-specific: stop buying those expensive hoof covers!

I don't know. All I know is that it's Sunday morning, I'm a little hung over, and my shoes have a big bad boo-boo. Also:



The straps left red stains across my insteps. (Which are actually a little brighter than in this photo, the flash washed them out.) The hell????


Photos: Style Spy

The Red Shoe Diaries, Part 2

There they are: the Manolo Blahnik Dodos, the object of my great desire, the shoes that have the Want Monster gnawing on my poor little overtaxed heart. I've been pinching the pennies, but I'm realistic: I knew that they might not be available by the time I saved up the money to buy them. So I started doing a little research on how I might be able to scratch that itch if the worst-case scenario played itself out. In an effort to provide a tiny amount of entertainment along with my ever-lengthening saga, I'm going to show you some of the things I found while on that search. Click photos for links.

Moda Spana Canyon

So I get the heads-up last week from Ted (my co-conspirator in fabulous footwear) that the Neiman Marcus pre-sale is going on. Saturday I went up to NM with my girlfriend Anita, who is wonderful to shop with because she always displays just the right amount of tact & practicality: she doesn't want you to get in over your head, but she also doesn't want to spoil your fun. Now, I knew that the Austin NM didn't have the Dodos, but that the Dallas store did, so Ted got out the stockbook & gave it to me to look through so he could do the pre-sale on the computer & have them shipped -- IF they were going on sale.

(The stockbook, by the way, is a giant three-ring binder with page after page of every shoe ordered by any NM branch in the country -- for me, that thing qualifies as porn. Seriously, I would like a copy to keep in my bedside table. I left sweaty fingerprints all over it.)

When I found them in the book, Ted said, "Oh my gosh!", disappeared into the stockroom, and came out with a Manolo Blahnik box in his hands. (Whoops. Better show you some more shoes...)

RSVP Skye

He opened the box and there they were. A return. Someone had ordered them online and then brought them back to the store. AND? They were on sale. I was quivering as I put them on, but alas, they were too small. My toes hung over the sides. And then the even worse news, which Ted delivered after he checked the computer: there are no more. It was a very popular shoe, there are no more to be found anywhere in the system. Crushing heartbreak. Oh, it was so sad, because they are sooooooo beautiful. I put them back on, just to be sure, but Anita reminded me that shoes need to fit. (It's funny how basic truths can desert you at times such as these.) Sad, sad, sad. I'd waited too long.

And so we drove away from Neimans. I was wistful but resigned. Anita posited that the Universe was perhaps saving me from a tragically turned ankle, but I couldn't bring myself to believe those magnificent shoes would ever treat me so cruelly. I consoled myself with the idea that somewhere out there was another pair of shoes I was meant to have instead, in the way that my disappointment over the Manolo Blahnik Camparis had eventually led me to my wonderful Miu Miu mary janes.

Nine West Ferwin

I came home and sent an e-mail to Sian detailing my disappointment, which, because she is a good Shoe Sister, she shared. And then for some reason (seeking closure, perhaps) I went to the NM website. Now, way back when after I fell in love with the Dodos, I put them in my Shopping Bag on the NM site so I wouldn't have to always search for them, I could just click there to find them whenever I wanted to kill a few minutes gazing adoringly. (The NM site holds on to stuff in your bag until you buy it or remove it.) When I signed on, there it was, the little red heading that said I had one (1) item in my bag. I clicked, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but my shoes. ON SALE. In all available sizes. Stunned. Stunned! I sent Sian a panicked e-mail asking what I should do and she very sensibly replied, "Buy them. Now." (She is English, after all. They're always so good in a crisis.)

And so I did.

I do not know how this happened or why the Shoe Gods are rewarding me in this way. I called the store and told Ted and he explained that the stock for the online stores is completely separate from the b&m ones, and he kicked himself for not thinking of checking online himself, but I don't see what good that would have done because if it hadn't been in my Shopping Cart I wouldn't have been able to find them online -- they're not listed on the NM site anymore. (They are still available on the Bergdorf Goodman site, but they are not on sale there.)

Via Spiga Dracora. Golly, that's a good-looking shoe, isn't it?

This is very mysterious to me. If I use the link that's still in my browser history, or the one in my order confirmation, up they pop. But going through the actual NM site or even googling the style name on the web doesn't turn it up. Very strange. But I'm not questioning it overmuch, I'm just happy it has come to pass. A happy red Manolo ending. Shoe satisfaction. Over the next week, I'll be hyperventilating every time a UPS truck pulls into the parking lot. Oh, there is going to be one massive Happy Shoe Dance around here.

One last word: Style Spy is done buying for the summer. I very much want to return to Paris this fall and therefore I need to save my centimes. I'm counting on all you friendly folks to help me stick to this resolution. I am NOT allowed to buy any more shoes. (Okay, if I'm IN a shoe store, and the shoes I'm wearing explode, and between me & my car there is a river of molten lava spiked with shards of broken glass, I'm allowed to buy shoes to get me home. But that's the only case.) And why would I possibly need any more? The shoes of my dreams are coming to live with me! Footwear Nirvana. Seventh Shoe Heaven. I am One with the Shoeniverse.

Photos: NeimanMarcus.com, Zappos.com

The Red Shoe Diaries, Part 1

Remember these?

YSL Doll

These are the ones that I bought in New York when I couldn't find these:

Manolo Blahnik Dodo

And was ever so torn about. You remember. I did wind up returning the YSLs. They were beautiful shoes, but they just weren't the ones I wanted. I did all this justifying to myself about how useful they would be and how comfortable they were, but every time I looked at them the first thing I remembered was that they were not the red Manolos.

("Red Manolos," by the way, is a phrase I'm going to be using a lot. It has, as Sian the English Rose points out, poetry. I'm going to use it to indicate that something has superlative qualities or is the ne plus ultra of its genre, as in, "Oh, my goodness, that delicious strawberry ice cream was the red Manolos!" Along the line of "bee's knees" or "cat's pajamas." I invite you all to join me in this linguistic innovation.)

I first ran into them (the Dodos -- a truly terrible name, but it was easy to remember, which was helpful later) in a magazine (I think it was Harper's Bazaar) several months ago. I cut out the photo -- it's been on my style board for months. The last time I was in Dallas, I actually tried them on in NM and nearly fainted with desire. All my friend Jody had to say, seeing them on my foot, was, "Ooooooooh..." Me, too.

So the YSLs went back, and once I'd done it I really didn't have any regrets, which is a sure sign they didn't belong with me. (And, it turns out, it's a good thing I returned them. But more about that later, she said conspiratorially.) I decided to hold out for the Dodos, and I decided I had to wait until they went on sale. Ted, my shoe guy at the Austin Neiman Marcus, had told me that the spring merch would start to be moved out June 1, and that there would be a pre-sale immediately before. My plan was to wait for the pre-sale and (provided this style went on sale) get Ted to have the shoes drop-shipped from the Dallas store. (They didn't have them in Austin.) That way, I save the shipping costs and Ted (who really is the sweetest guy -- go buy some shoes from him, you'll love him) gets the sale.

I was a little worried about the availability of the shoes, because I was noodling around on the NM site the other day and noticed that they were no longer on there. I know that the whole waiting-for-the-sale game is a risky one, but I stuck to my guns.

At any rate, I was tooling around on the internets looking at shoes this weekend (Because that's what I do. On my resumé, shoe shopping would not go under the "Hobbies" section. Oh, no, my friends, I would list shoe shopping under my "Special Skills."), and I stumbled across these:

(Life Stride Cierra -- click photo for link)

I got a very positive response on the YSLs, everyone loved them, they really are gorgeous shoes, so when I saw these I thought I'd tell folks about 'em, because I think they're very handsome and reminiscent of the YSLs. Also, they cost approximately $520 less. Not a bad thing. As a matter of fact, $520 less is the red Manolos.


Photos: NeimanMarcus.com, Zappos.com

I May Have Blacked Out in Barneys...

...and when I woke up I was wearing these:

(Miu Miu)

I wasn't just wearing them, kids, I was wearing them home. See, here's what happened...

We all know Parts One, Two and Three of my long and winding Manolo Blahnik Camparis Saga. (This is the last installment, I promise.) When last we spoke, the plan was to go to Barneys in Dallas to try on the Louboutin Iowas

in that fabulous nude patent leather in my (evidently too-enormous-for-Neiman's) size. And I did. They had them in my size and I put 'em on and gosh, they're pretty. They also hurt like the dickens. The toe box is very, very narrow on these babies -- even in the right size my toes were actually overlapping one another. And the edge of that peep toe started rubbing my big toe before I'd even made a full lap around the shoe department. No way I could wear them for any length of time without tears. This is slightly disappointing, but not actually surprising -- my feet, they are not particularly French, and I have noticed this before.

During Part One of the Saga, I had tried on these little beauties just for giggles:


My thoughts about them were that they were insanely sexy beyond my everyday needs, and that since I already have black shoes in this vein I should leave them at Saks.

But on Saturday in Barneys, what to my wondering eyes should appear but these babies in blue -- a perfect, delightful blue exactly between Wedgewood and robin's egg. (They're a teeny bit brighter than they appear in the photo above, but just a teeny bit.) I have been hunting for blue patent shoes lately. As a matter of fact I've now ordered & returned two pairs of them because they just weren't quite right.

But these are right. Oh, how right they are. My feet, evidently, are not French, they are Italian. (Good to know.) The shoes are beautiful, and believe it or not they are very comfortable. There's a hidden platform of about half an inch in the forefoot that seems to be made up entirely of padding -- they are the cushiest heels I own. I capered around on them all day Saturday and my feet were absolutely fine. Plus, the balance is perfect. They are so easy to maneuver in that I actually skipped through the shoe department to show off. I will be very interested in obtaining more Miu Miu shoes -- they appear to have the high heel thing figured out.

I had on a chocolate brown dress Saturday and the blue was just beautiful with it. (Later I accessorized with a patterned head scarf that had a few blue notes -- perfect.) Once I had them on my feet, I looked over at my friend Jody, who was shopping with me, and said plaintively, "I don't want to take them off!" And Jody, because she is a good & true friend, responded, "I don't think you should."

So I didn't. I paid for them, put my old shoes in the box, and hoofed it downstairs to buy some perfume. And I will have you know that before I had traversed the approximately 500 total feet from the shoe department down the steps to the Le Labo counter, three -- count 'em, THREE! -- people complimented me on my shoes. Three compliments in less than five minutes. Those are some good shoes.

So that's what happened. I have no regrets. It was meant to be.

Photos: Style Spy, Net-A-Porter.com, Style.com

Shoes and Champagne

Last night, I got to get all dressed up, drink free champagne, and shoe shop! I'm honestly not sure I've ever been happier.

I attended the Gala Grand Opening of Austin's new Neiman Marcus store. I was surrounded by folks in tuxedos and very pretty dresses, not to mention oodles of fantastic Neiman Marcus merch. The store is lovely -- nicely laid-out and very open. There was a ton of music, including one of my favorite Austin bands, Paris 49. There were hors d'oeuvres and canapes set out among the jewelry and makeup. This was utterly perfect -- I nibbled some roasted vegetables off a plate I could set right on the counter, then when I was finished, there was a mirror right there so I could refresh my lipstick! Brilliant! There were even tissues!

I didn't see very many SAs when we first got to the event, but by the end of the evening, after the several open bars had been dispensing various alcoholic potions for a couple of hours, I started to notice quite a bit of action at the cash registers and suddenly there were a lot of very well-dressed ladies accessorizing themselves with Neiman Marcus shopping bags. It's really kind of brilliant, when you think about it -- load folks up with free booze and watch the credit cards start to fly!

At any rate, I was a good girl and didn't make any purchases. I couldn't resist a little trying-on, however. And now I have a dilemma, and I need you to help me out.

You may remember my Manolo Blahnik Campari debacle a while back. To recap, I'm in love with these:

(Manolo Blahnik Campari)

and have been for quite a while. Alas, when I tried them on not long ago, I discovered they didn't fit me.

Or so I thought.

The place where I tried them on only had the shoes up to a size that was definitely at least a half-size too small. To gauge the fit of the shoe, I tried on these:

(Manolo Blahnik Blixa)

which the SA assured me were exactly the same shoe, just without the strap across the instep. And they didn't fit. They just felt far too narrow in the toe box for me to wear them comfortably, especially since they're patent leather.

Last night browsing through the (lovely) shoe department at Neiman's, I tried on these lovelies:

(Christian Louboutin Iowa)

which I have also coveted for quite a while. While the green is quite fetching, they also come in black patent, red patent, and this really great nude color:

that I am very attracted to because A) I love when a shoe is the same color as the leg, it makes your legs look longer, B) I think a nude shoe is very sexy, and C) what color doesn't it go with? Nothing, that's what! The other great thing about the Iowas is that the heel is quite a bit lower -- they're 70 mms (not quite three inches) and so are a lot more maneuverable. My fabulous friend Anita, who'd accompanied me to the Gala, made soft, cooing noises of approval when I got those Iowas on my feet, and I must admit, they looked goooooorgeous.

But here's where the plot thickens...

On a whim, I also asked for the Camparis in my (potential) sizes, which the lovely Valerie (the SA who was helping me) promptly delivered. And ya know what?

They fit.

Okay, okay, I think they fit. Thing is, I'd been drinking champagne for a couple of hours at that point, so it's entirely possible the bubbly was overriding my usual sensors for these sorts of things. Dresses! Champagne! Shoes! Music! Perfume! The endorphins were flying thick & fast through my system. You could probably have cut my feet OFF and I wouldn't have noticed. Obviously, I have to go back and try on these shoes again when I am sober. I have been known to end a shoe shopping excursion on quite a natural high, but under no circs should one go into the endeavor with a buzz on. It's serious business, people! Behave accordingly!

And now to the dilemma part of the post. IF once I'm no longer booze-addled those Camparis indeed fit in the way I think they do, ought they to be mine? Here's the major reason I'm hesitating: the Camparis will only be available to me (for a combination of reasons) in black patent. But I already have these:

(Michael Kors, love 'em so, was actually wearing them last night. Not quite patent, but slick black vacchetta leather.)

and these

(Stuart Weitzman in black patent. And yes, I also have them in that cult Weitzman color, Red Quasar. That's them posing as me in my blog profile, because I believe they are the perfect expression of my personality in a shoe.)

But seriously -- do I really need black patent mary janes when I have the above shoes already? The Iowas, however, I could get in the fabulous nude patent and just wear them with everything I own, including my pajamas.

Please help! Tell me what to do!

A special shout-out to my wonderful friend Margaret, without whom my attendance at the event (and hence my dilemma and concurrent post about it) would not have been possible. Mags, you're an angel!

Photos: Net-A-Porter.com, Saks.com, Style Spy