Liesl, 7N

Oh, fabulosas, I have been neglecting you more than usual. I have been oddly uninspired lately, but I promise I have not forgotten you. Luckily, I have some shoe loving students this semester who are helping to feed my shoe adoration needs; perhaps they will help inspire me.

I went to the mall the other day with Shelley to see a movie and, naturally, shop. I knew I couldn't really shop because I had had to cancel my credit card (I only allow myself one) after I had trouble canceling an automatic bill pay item. But I had brought $100 with me for the movie and lunch and thought I would be wise with the rest and save it for the week. Sometimes I lie to myself.

As Shelley and I were passing the Steve Madden store, I spied an adorable pair of flips (on sale!) and I knew the saving of the money was not going to happen. But really? How could I have passed these pretty little things up? I was fortunate enough to wear them the next night to see Eddie Izzard on stage. Much to my chagrin, he was not wearing heels. Don't tell Mr. Fancy Pants, but I'd leave him for Eddie. A straight man who loves heels as much as I do? How could I not? Anyway, I think I did the right thing with the weeks' money, don't you? After all, fabulous new shoes are the point of having money in the first place. It would be illogical not to have spent my last cash on shoes. Right?

OHMYGOD. Remember the Madden black mules my stupid dog chewed up? Remember the subsequent hunt all over Dallas for a new perfect pair? As I was looking for the picture of the cute new flip I noticed that he is making them again! He heard the call! I think I may have to go cry tears of happy fortune, now.

I promise, no more neglecting you, fabulosas. I am back; I will be updating this blog and sharing my brilliant shoe insight far more often. Regularity, after all, isn't just for bran muffins.

Today's favorite shoe:













Emilio Pucci "764972"

Oh fabulosas, I have some very important information to impart to you. This information will hopefully save you from making the same mistake I made a month or so ago. Put on your serious faces and let's talk about home finances.

I decided that in an effort to curb my spending I would give up pedicures and start doing them myself. How hard could it be, right? I had bought an Ped Egg after staring at it for 15 minutes in line at Bed, Bath and Beyond and had good results with it. The calluses just came right off! It was so easy! so efficient! I was starting to think that my idea of home pedis was going to work.

The next time I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond I spied this home spa. It has an electric skin remover thing and I thought, if it's good manually, surely an electric one will be better. That makes so much sense! It would be so easy to just hold my dainty foot out and let the electric magic of the heel scraper go to town on my dainty heels. I also didn't realize that the electric thing was attached to the spa and not removeable. I was hoping I could put a different attachment on it and use it on my face. On second thought, that probably wasn't the brightest idea.

Today was the day I decided to get the spa out of the box and give it a go. It turns out, I had a profound misunderstanding of my pedicure abilities. Not only did the electric magic simply not happen, it was far more trouble than it was worth. After filling up the footbath and carrying it to the living room to lounge in my comfy chair with a book (something that was not exactly easy to do), I turned it on. The wonderful heating thing was more of a tepid buzzing; the electric heel scraper only took off little bits of skin, leaving my heels ragged and in need of manual work. Wasn't the thing I was trying to avoid? I ended up getting the Ped Egg out and using it rather vigorously on my heels; worked much better. So much for the magic of electricity and heel scraping technology. The other problem I had was a distinct lack of patience in filing my toenails into a nicely rounded shape. Did you know that painting your toenails into the shape they should be does not work all that well? Yeah, skin and nail, two very different things.

I chose a weirdly metallic shade of pink that I bought at the dollar store about a year ago as a gag gift for some welcome baskets. It's ok, but not something I would probably buy again. Still, it worked better at the pretend nail shaping than I assume a lighter shade would. After all of these failed experiments, I did eventually get my feet and tootsies into something akin to respectable shape. Who knew pedicures were not the easiest thing to give yourself? And here I was, thinking pedicures were not a necessity but a luxury! What a silly idea.

I may have grossly misunderstood my pedicure ability, but I will never misunderstand my ability to choose the most fabulous shoes.

Today's favorite shoe:

Giuseppe Zanotti

I am a bad, bad shoe blogger. I have been neglecting my beloved fabulosas in favor of writing about other things on my other blog. Oh, it is so wrong! The shoes, how they suffer without me! I shall force myself to touch a pair of Crocs the next time I am at Nordstrom's. But only with my pinky finger and only for half a second. I've been bad but not that bad.

One of my former students was walking through some city and came upon a sight that horrified him: it was an entire store devoted to Crocs. Naturally, he stopped and took a picture for me with his cell phone. I purposely did not save it, for obvious reasons. The question I must ask is, how is it possible there is an entire store devoted to the hideous foam monstrosities? Have we lost our minds? The answer must surely be, yes! we are, as a nation, batshit crazy.

It is often a sign of a diseased mind when a person begins to prefer the lower arts, or lesser artists. If you walk into someone's home and see a copy of a Thomas Kincaid painting, aren't you a little bit sure that there is some simple mindedness going on? Do we really think of the Lawrence Welk types as anything but doddering old fools? If we know someone who regularly sends us "inspirational" and sappy as hell emails, aren't we also sure they are avid Hallmark Channel viewers? Two words, people: Danielle Steele. Two more words: Hee Haw. Save the righteous indignation for lesser mortals; you know I'm right.

It is the same for our support of Crocs and their take over of American feet; we are entering the twilight of our sanity as a nation and starting our rapid descent into the great nursing home of history. There simply cannot be any other explanation for how it is possible that Crocs are not just worn, but popular. We have passed the age of reason, in this country. We have started wearing diapers made of foam because they're just more comfortable and convenient. We have discovered the "joys" of jello colored shoes. We are combative and refusing to do what is best for us, long past caring that we are wearing curlers in our hair in public and not minding it when people see our skid marked undies hanging on the line of ugly that stretches across this country. We are the slovenly crazy lady you see at the store buying bags and bags of cat food, kitty litter, and gin. Quite frankly, we smell.

Je refuse! I refuse to be associated with a country who eats supper at 4:00 p.m. and wears those funky sunglasses you get at the eye doctor's office after your eyes have been dilated. I refuse to live in a county that thinks that foam is something you wear instead of something you use to wash your hands. Je refuse!

And people wonder why other countries think we're tacky!

Today's favorite shoe:

Bettye Muller "Ekland"

Liesl, 7N

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know it has been way too long and I have missed my beloved fabulosas. I hate to admit that I have been uninspired. Yes, it's true, reality as we all know and love it has been altered. Think happy thoughts for inspiration to remain with me, fabulosas.

The thing that brings me back is a dream I had last night. In this dream I was having a discussion with some nameless person about whether or not god exists and if he does, if he is benevolent in nature. I won't bore you with the details of this dreamy argument, for it was long and meandering and had a strange way of being about cats and jello. In the end, I won the argument with a very simple, true, and good statement: God could not be benevolent if he exists, otherwise high heels would be comfortable. Anyone with two neurons to rub together would see the wisdom, the superiority, the sanctity, nay the necessity of that argument.

We must never forget that we are fabulosas, and as fabulosas we dream, and when we dream we dream of shoes. For, what else is there?*

Today's favorite shoe:

Emilio Pucci "764970"

*Paraphrase of a line by David Mamet

Fabulosas: I need a small break but I will be back. I promise.

Liesl, 7N

Oh la, fabulosas, I had such a full shoe day on Wednesday. I met my mother at Northpark for lunch at P.F. Chang's. I am constantly bugging Suz with my love for their Mongolian beef. I think I could text her "Mongolian beef, mmmm!" from someone else's phone and she'd know it's me. But enough about food, it isn't the point.

After we had lunch we headed to Nordstrom's for their 33% off sale. The racks were relatively empty and nothing I liked fit. My mother, however, managed to find two pairs of shoes and was smart enough to listen to me and buy them. As I was perusing the couture racks and talking with my mother and the salesman a very nice looking and nicely dressed woman was sitting nearby and smiling at us. I commented on how much I liked her dress, she smiled and thanked me and we all continued to bask in the glow of the shoes. The atmosphere was replete with good will and the euphoria you feel when you're surrounded by the love of well made shoes and the people who appreciate them.

We wandered around the rest of the shoe department, stopping to try a shoe on here and there. As the salesman was leading us over to some Nina's, we passed two twentysomething women trying on heels. They asked the salesman's opinion, he told her both pair; I told her which one was actually the best. She ignored me completely which would lead anyone with sense to the conclusion that she was just not that bright. Bless her heart. We left the simple woman to wander some more, stopping here and there, but I was not having any luck. It felt like the world had tilted off its axis and all that was noble was suddenly relegated to a shoe box in the clouds. Don't ask me what that means, I'm being lyrical.

Finally, the salesman led us to a pair of blingy sandals which he then convinced me to try on. They were definitely not my thing but my mother convinced me to get them. They have a heart and crystals and they're pink. I like pink, I like crystals, I kind of like hearts, just not all together. I'll be taking them back tomorrow. We headed over to check out and I collapsed in the closest chair. It was then that I realized I was sitting next to the Crocs display. I threw up a little bit in my mouth and needed a mint.

My mother took an inordinately long time to check out and as she was doing so two women walked up and said they were holding some packages for them. Imagine my surprise and extreme envy when three salesmen walked out with seven bags of shoes! Can you imagine? My pulse quickened, my mouth went dry, my pupils dilated and I just managed to croak: can I come home with you? They laughed, I smiled weakly and hoped they knew I wasn't kidding. I shed a tear of regret as I watched them leave the store with all of those shoes. I can only imagine what joy they were feeling as they loaded the bags into their car and headed out into their destiny of shoe wonder. Oh, la.

When I got home and took out the shoe box to show Mr. Fancy Pants the shoes, he said, oh lord! here we go! He humors me pretty well when I come home and show him my new shoes. He nods and mumbles something about them being nice then turns back to whatever it was he was doing. It isn't much but I'll take it. I don't actually expect him to get all gooey with wonder at my new shoes; that's Suz's job. I usually call her from the store to tell her what I'm seeing and trying on. She does the same for me. I had to increase the minutes on my cell phone plan. It was worth it.

There is one more thing to report from my full shoe day: Nordstrom's at Northpark is participating in the Soles 4 Souls campaign now through March 19th. You can bring your gently worn or new shoes to Nordstrom's and they will send them to Soles 4 Souls. I heartily endorse this charity and hope that you all choose to send them the shoes you no longer wear. You know we've all made shoe mistakes in our lives and forgotten to take them back. God knows I have more than one pair that felt like they fit in the store but betrayed my feet when I wore them; what a fantastic solution to that problem! You get rid of the shoes that are mocking you with their inadequacy and someone who needs shoes gets a pair that fit and protect their feet. This is a fabulosa worthy idea.

Here's a tip: if a shoe has pink bling and you are above the age of five, don't let your mother talk you into getting them; she's just trying to pretend that you're not all grown up.

Today's favorite shoe:

Sergio Rossi "Blanka"

HURRY! FABULOSAS! HURRY!

Several of you have asked me where you can find a pair of Stuart Weitzman "Give Me Fever" pumps. They are simply nowhere. But I found a pair today at Nordstrom's at Northpark Mall... size 6 medium. Go! get them! HURRY!

Liesl, 7N

Mr. Fancy Pants and I were driving down the freeway on Saturday night and talking about how a privileged upbringing can sometimes cause one to miss out on the simpler pleasures in life, like parking lot carnivals and paper plates. As we were passing a store that advertises all shoes $9.95 Mr. Fancy Pants blurted out, "Why don't you shop there?" It was all I could do to not push him out of the speeding car.

I've never been to that particular shoe store; I think it's obvious that they would have nothing for me. I can get down with a cheap pair of flips and I can get down with a cheap pair of tennies*, but I fail to see how a shoe store that has any self respect at all would willingly advertise their cheap nature. They might as well slap some proverbial hot pants on and proverbially give the milk away for free. Needless to say, I will not ever be gracing that store with my presence. I buy my organic milk at a premium. Could be the privileged upbringing; or, it could be that I have good taste.

Back to Mr. Fancy Pants: What to do? I find myself questioning who this man is and why I married him. I recognize that I couldn't have found my, ahem, solemate in male form if I wanted to marry a heterosexual, but I thought I had taught him more than to even consider stringing cheap shoes in a sentence with my name. I think I might have to invent a class that teaches husbands, boyfriends, and butchy lesbian lovers how to truly appreciate a fabulosa's clear entitlement to fabulous shoes. I'll call it, Liesl's Introduction to Wants Superseding Needs class. That works quite nicely!

In my class you will learn that shoes are universally valuable above all other a priori concepts.

*As long as you aren't using them for exercising. Oh, wait a minute! they aren't for anything else and we do not wear them outside of the gym or street race. Never mind!

Today's favorite shoe:

Giuseppe Zanotti "E7020"

Told you so.

Furthermore, I've seen it claimed, though not documented, that Cody helped design the shoes, knowing full well what they were. I knew it was all about her edge cred. Lame.

Liesl, 7N

I now formally kick Diablo Cody out of the fabulosa universe. She is dead to me. To read why, here is an excerpt from her latest blog post on Myspace:

"I'm actually really pissed about this, now that I think about it. They're using me to publicize their stupid shoes and NOBODY ASKED ME. I would never consent to a lame publicity stunt at a time when I already want to hide. I'm sorry if I sound like a party-pooper, but Jeebus."

Party pooper? She wants to hide? I'm sorry, did someone force her to write Juno and then force her to sell it to a producer or studio to be made into a movie? Is someone forcing her to go to the show and sit there in all of her tacky faux leopard print glory? No? then stop with the faux Garbo shit.

Lame publicity stunt? Because, you know, she's such a private attention ho-less person. There's nothing wrong with asking for the attention of every pair of eyes in the room by taking your clothes off, but let's not kid ourselves that strippers are the hide away in the dark types. I suspect Diablo Cody just thought she would no longer be considered edgey if she wore the Weitzman shoes and therefore garner attention for something other than her body or wit.

We are, of course, talking about the Stuart Weitzman "Cinderella" shoes. I am not a huge fan of this year's offering, but they are Weitzmans and are therefore special. Diablo Cody should thank her lucky stars for having the opportunity to be in the same room with Stuart Weitzman, much less wear his shoes. She could only hope to touch his greatness with the very tip of her pinky toe.

As expected, Stuart Weitzman was class itself when interviewed by the AP:

"Weitzman later said he made the cost of the metallic beige T-strap high heels -- more than $2.5 million, including parts that were not used in the final pair -- clear to Cody when he met with her. He blames the stripper-turned-screenwriter's behind-the-scenes team for not fully communicating the value of the shoes to Cody.

"I'm just embarrassed that she wrote what she wrote," he told the AP during a telephone interview Saturday night.

Even so, the designer says he wouldn't change his decision to give the ultra-expensive heels to Cody."

That, Diablo Cody, is what class looks like. You can't buy it, you can't steal it, you can't even pretend to have it. It doesn't come with birth or status or accomplishment. Ex-strippers can have it, but not if they act like whiney babies with entitlement issues.

I don't care who you are or what you've done, Stuart Weitzman deserves more respect than a bitchy rant on myspace.

Today's favorite shoe:


Stuart Weitzman "Por Favor"

Liesl, 7N

I am not happy. I was finally able to wear the gorgeous fuschia Pliner's I bought a month ago and they killed my feet. They are, dare I say it? too small. I knew that stretching spray wouldn't work since they are silk, but I headed over to Deno's, my favorite shoe repair store, anyway. The instructions for the spray are for leather or reptile, not man made fabrics. Oh! wait! the shoes are silk! that's natural, right? I mean, it comes from worms, which are so natural they are icky. Dare I try it? What do you think, fabulosas?

Anyway... I found a fabulous product at Deno's: Killer Kushionz by Foot Petals. These incredible sticky cushions are supposed to keep your feet from sliding in their shoes. Can you imagine? We all know what it's like to slip around inside our shoes to the extent that we look like we're walking on ice on a perfectly hot day. While it might be amusing to watch, it is not amusing to experience. These pads come in all different sizes and can be added to any kind of shoe. You have to love a company that claims "one size fits fabulously." Oh! how cool are these Strappy Strips for those straps that won't stop digging into your perfectly pedicured pes? Yes, it's a word.

This product exploration, while fun, has me wondering how it is that I didn't know about these products before now. I feel a tiny bit betrayed by my hyper extended shoe sense. I suppose I can't know everything. Wait, this is me we're talking about; of course I can and do know everything. Now.

Since we've established that I know everything now, why not just go ahead and put me in charge of the world? It would be infinitely prettier.

Today's favorite shoe:

Kate Spade "Gerry"

Liesl, 7N

When I am out and about without my husband and he happens to call me on my cell phone which I just happen to have with me and turned on, I always answer, "I'm not shopping!" Three fourths of the time that isn't true, but what we doesn't know won't hurt him. I'm usually able to hide the evidence before he gets home and only rarely am I busted. Maybe it's more true that Mr. Fancy Pants is in a deep state of denial.

I met the man who has the website again on Friday. He just had to meet me at a Barnes and Noble that was next to a DSW. And I just happened to get there an hour early after my lunch with my gorgeous friend Erika ended. What's a shopping addict to do? Um... shop? I picked up a cute pair of Rampage sandals with bling on the toe hole and not much else and a cute pair of flips with pearls on the straps. The flips were something like $4 and you can never have too many flips for tooling around the garden, house, pool, or discount shopping. Remember ladies, nice shoes for nice stores.

This time the fault was truly not mine for the shopping. Truly. No one could expect me to pass up shoes when I have time to spare and vast availability. No one. It would be like someone blaming a crack ho for smoking crack when it was handed to her for free. Or, blaming a gambler for betting on a game that was a sure thing, like the Patriots versus the Giants. Wait, that one doesn't work. The point is, I am not to blame for this one; I took one for the team of people everywhere who have their addictions thrust on them against their will. It wasn't my fault! Stop looking at me like that!

Addiction may be too strong of a word for what I have; let's call it an undying need to pretty up the place.

Today's favorite shoe:

Casadei "3891"

Liesl, 7N

Squeeeeeee! a wedding in the fabulosa universe! I am so excited to announce that my beautiful friend Jenni is marrying my less beautiful friend Huan. It's not that he's not beautiful, but he's a man. You get that, right? Jenni told me tonight of their impending nuptials and I am so excited I think I teeteed a little bit.

I love weddings. I watch wedding shows and I take Martha Stewart Weddings magazine. Weddings are the time we are supposed to be at our best and the time people are supposed to love us so much that they buy us ridiculously complex and expensive mixers. But fabulosas, let us not forget the most important part of any wedding: the wedding shoes. I am getting flushed at the thought.

We've talked about special shoes before and what they mean to us, but let's talk specifically about wedding shoes. As we prepare to cross the threshold into a new life and a new family, shouldn't it be done in our most special shoes? Yes, I do believe it should. Your wedding day is the most important shoe day of your life. Even if your dress will cover your shoes the entire time, it doesn't matter; you will still know that your most fabulous asset for the day is your shoes. Walk into your life on happy little pillows of joy!

Something borrowed, something blue, something old, something new, something fabulous in shoes.

Today's favorite shoe:

Vera Wang

Liesl, 7N

Oh, fabulosas, fabulosas, fabulosas! Looooook! If one of you doesn't get those shoes I will be very upset. They are GORGEOUS and they are such an amazing price! I've mentioned that that is my favorite ebay seller, right? I've bought Pliner and Kenneth Cole from them and they are so wonderful. But those Kenneth Coles are simply to die for. Oh my god, I want these so, so badly. I promised Mr. Fancy Pants that I wouldn't go crazy on ebay, though. My life is so hard.

Is it a boudoir slipper or a fabulous slingback? You decide! I have some of these in a half boot and they are killer. They look incredible with jeans. You should get them. And these. You realize that if you are a size 10 you are morally required to get these, right? Who doesn't need a pair of red ankle boots? Or strappy sandals?

I'm not an enabler, I just know what's good for my beloved fabulosas.

Today's favorite shoe:

Isabella Fiore "Revolver"

Liesl, 7N

Oh, Donald. Donald, Donald, Donald. There is no featuring of Crocs on fabulous shows. You have just made The Apprentice the bitch of foam made hideousness. I don't care that Crocs is donating shoes to people in need! If they truly wanted to do something good they'd donate a fabulous pair of shoes for every Croc someone turns in as a way to make up for the ugly they have spread around the world. It would be like those turn in your gun programs, only better.

A very smart man contacted me recently and asked if I would be interested in writing for his website. I met with him today and have agreed to write the content on his site. When we get it up and going I will be sure to link it here so that you all can bask in my displayed glory. This means, of course, that I get to go shopping even more. Woe, my life; it does pinch.

Here's my bargain with all of you: for every pair of Crocs you send me that I can destroy I will donate $5 to the Autism Society of America.

Today's favorite shoe:

Ralph Lauren

Liesl, 7N

I am extremely and irretrievably offended. I feel like my honor has been trampled upon and my name is now as muddy as a country doctor who hides an assassin in bad shoes. What, you ask, could cause this ultimate offense? There is a loafer named Liesl. And darlings, let me tell you, it is not good.

Of all the shoes they would name Liesl, they chose that monstrosity?? Look at the stitching! Look at the material! That shoe does not deserve my name. I heartily object to my name being anywhere near that shoe and I think we need to start a petition to rename it. Let's say, something like... Mabel? or how about Agnes? Lucretia? Here's the problem: I can't find out who makes this very un-fabulous loafer. Anyone?

My name is worth far more than cheap materials and bad stitching.

Today's favorite shoe:

Givenchy "574936"

Liesl, 7N

I had the worst nightmare I've ever had last night. I had gone to see my doctor and he told me that I had to start wearing orthopedic shoes. I was excited at first, thinking, new shoes! When he took me to the back wall of his office and showed me the shoes, I shook my head, screamed no, and started to have a panic attack. The shoes were a cross between running shoes, men's oxfords and cardboard boxes. My doctor told that I would lose my ability to walk if I didn't wear these shoes. In other words, my life was well and truly over.

I haven't been able to shake the feelings from that nightmare this morning. The horror of seeing the abomination they were calling a shoe and the agony of hearing that I would have to wear it... it is too much for my fragile psyche. In the dream, I chose the wheelchair over the horrific shoes. Naturally.

Life isn't worth living in bad shoes. You present yourself to the world in your shoes and if you don't care enough to present yourself as fabulous, you might as well resign yourself to mediocrity. And who wants that?

If dreams were reality I'd be Christian Louboutin's best friend and all the world would be better for it.

Today's favorite shoe:

Alessandro Dell'Acqua "719032A"

Liesl, 7N

Did you watch Tuesday's Oprah? You seriously missed it, if not. She was supposed to have on Christian Louboutin but he came down with bronchitis. Instead, she had on one of his representatives and, more importantly, his shoes. I whimpered. He called shoes "life filled art objects." Have I mentioned? he completes me.

I had never seen a picture of the God of Shoes, so I was a bit surprised to see this little man tooling around Paris on a scooter. But then I realized, he couldn't possibly have lived up to my expectations. No man is Leonidas, Achilles, Hector and Odysseus all rolled into one with a massive helping of shoe perfection. Still, the God of Shoes will always be more than enough man any woman would need. You know, because of the whole completing thing. And the shoes.

This is why Christian Louboutin is the God of Shoes:
I am crying tears of salty purity over those shoes. Those shoes are the cat's meow after good sex and the bees knees after a run through a field of poppies. Those shoes are sublimity in material form and delicousness in satin and bows. Those shoes simply are.

I think we should all launch a thousand paper ships of fabulous in honor of Christian Louboutin.

Today's favorite shoe:

Christian Louboutin, of course.

Liesl, 7N

I saw an old friend yesterday who I hadn't seen in twelve years. He reminded me that I had helped him pick out a suit for his rehearsal dinner and that he still had it, still wears it. His mom told me that they had looked everywhere for a suit that looked good on him and that would last through the fads and were amazed all those years ago that I had been so successful in finding that suit. My husband smiled and said that I've always had sartorial elan. My response? Well, duh.

This is yet another example of why you all should really trust me and my sartorial sense. I have also decided that you sweet things might benefit from my other tastes in all things pretty. Here's your first tip: two words that should never, never, never, never, never, never go together? faux fireplace.

Two other words that should never, never, never, never, never, never go together? Foam shoes.

Today's favorite shoe:

Manolo Blahnik

Liesl, 7N

A friend recently told me a story about a friend of hers. Apparently this friend of a friend bought what she thought was a Dior purse online. When she the lining ripped a year later she took it to Dior to have it fixed. Their response? We don't fix knock offs. Not only did the friend lay out a couple hundred dollars for a knock off, she was duped into thinking it was real, and she was seriously dissed at Dior. I can't imagine a worse fate.

I'm ok with shoe inspirations. I'm ok with buying a pair of shoes from Target that approximately resemble a pair of Manolos. I do not think it is ok, though, to purchase cheap shoes that have a couture label on them. No, I don't care about sweat shops and child labor or fair trade; that's all immaterial in this issue. I care that the original piece of art is being seriously misrepresented. As if Gucci would indulge in plastics.

The moral of this entry is this: if it smells like a knock off, if it looks like a knock off, it costs less than a mortgage payment, it's not worth your time. You have to pay for true art.

You will never find truly fabulous shoes in a trash bag wielded by an Asian man on Canal street.

Today's favorite shoe:

Hollywould "Gertrud"