The Island Shoe Girl's Blog

Where shoes meet sand…

The Modern Day Wonder Women January 31, 2010

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:43 am
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Here I come to save the day with the my Steve Madden Vippers. Photo by Jean Thornton.

The recent introduction of a Blackberry into my life has made me contemplate how Wonder Woman would have survived in our world of constant connections.  What began as a way to get the internet without an expensive connection and to better manage my work day and email inbox without being tied to my desk has suddenly turned into a struggle between woman and technology.  The constant calls, emails, and text messaging has made me feel like some days the requests for help never end and I am pathetic excuse for a super hero in stilettos. 

What is a girl to do but buy some new shoes and try to not to scream, especially if she has no clue which button actually plays the voice mail but gets five different beeps and buzzes to tell her she has a voicemail.  As I think about the two year commitment I have made to this new piece of technology and an upgraded coverage plan through my cell phone provider, I cannot help but acquire a whole new level of respect for Wonder Woman and her shiny red boots.  Sure I have a lot of great boots and many, many amazing shoes, but Wonder Woman had something more—maybe just time management and the ability to change clothing in the span of a thunderclap.

I consider myself a person who operates well under stress, but I could use a few pointers and perhaps a little ‘swing’ from the Lasso of Truth.  Wonder Woman, like all of us at the root of it, was just a woman—a human being.  Just like any another shoe girl (or shoe guy) she put her boots on one at a time and most likely her indestructible bracelets too. (Do you think those come in platinum also?)  So how did the unassuming Diane Prince transform into Wonder Woman and save the day time and time again while I struggle just to get the dog walked some nights?

Yes, Wonder Woman did have an invisible plane that was always on stand-by without the requirements of airport security.  And she had that super-fabulous pair of running shoes known as the “Sandals of Hermes”.  (And if those are anything like a Hermès bag, I want on the supply list even if they are for running!)  I am only on a small island and I have a hard time zooming from one end to the other in my 1997 Honda Accord to get to the next meeting on time.  No doubt I could use a little assistance from a superbly accessorized Super Hero to solve the problems in my small portion of the world. 

As I try to multi-task my way through another 24 hours trying to simultaneously update my Facebook status, return a multitude of calls, and iron my blouse, I cannot help but think that maybe Wonder Woman would feel as overwhelmed as I do if she had to operate these tiny buttons too.  Let’s remember that Wonder Woman lived in a time of phone booths and party lines as opposed to Instant Messaging and Skype Video connections.  While it is true Wonder Woman was fighting Nazis, she never had to manage three email accounts and download her shoe blog!

When it comes right down to it Wonder Woman was just another single girl trying to save a little part of the world each day in great boots—and maybe even find a little time for a date and glass of wine too.  And while she might have been a super hero raised by Amazon women, in the end she was a woman with a lot to do and some fabulous shoes, which really makes her just like me and many others.  I may not have the Lasso of Truth to hold others accountable, and my favorite bracelet is a simple silver bangle that probably cannot block bullets and laser beams, but that doesn’t mean I still cannot answer the call for help or save the day if only for just a few minutes or in a small place. 

My own private, invisible jet may be preferable to slipping off my heels for airport security…but then again who’s to say those aren’t Super Power Stilettos?  A girl can dream right?

 

3 Rules of Employment January 24, 2010

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:26 am
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The first step towards a successful career should be taken with fantastic shoes. Photo by Jean Thornton.

When toilets clog, soap dispenser run empty and trash cans overflow, I am the one who hears the cries of those in need of a square of Charmin and answers with the solution to any your bathroom dilemmas.  It may seem odd that a girl who wears $200 Michael Kors’ four-inch wedge tennis shoes with gold trim would freely saunter into a ladies room with a bottle of disinfectant in my left hand and plunger slung over right shoulder.  I have perfected the art of toilet unclogging regardless of how gross it is.  Restaurant patrons turn up their noses and watch in awe as my perfectly manicured nails grip the yellow handle of my faithful plunger.  Within in minutes water is flowing freely in all three stalls and I am the Wonder Woman of modern plumbing problems. 

After watching my latest ‘battle with the bowl’, a customer gives me a sympathetic smile and says, “I bet you hate this part of your job.”  Without hesitation I answer with my best life rule, “Never be too good to use a plunger.”  I triumphantly smash the paper towels deeper in the trash can with my plunger and swing it back over my shoulder, calling out a final, “enjoy your night,” as I exit the bathroom.  I am not a superhero; I simply follow the rules of job success I have learned to respect in all of my various employment roles. 

As a teenager it was changing diapers, in college it was smelly summer campers, and now as an adult, my college education has not relieved me from some of the less enjoyable tasks of life.  No level of education or seniority has given me the golden ticket that allows me to pass off unpleasant jobs to others.  As one might imagine, working with the homeless can sometimes lead to conversations about less enjoyable topics with those in desperate need of a shower.  Thankfully, I was given a few good work rules that keep me humble, employed, and in my place, even when that place means in a flooded dorm room with a water vacuum.   

My father taught me early on that Custodians and Secretaries run every office; they have the keys to everything and the means to make any complication disappear.  Custodians and Secretaries are like the office mafia; you must come to an understanding of their power.  This rule has kept my office trash empty and my coffee safe to drink.  A sincere compliment and a box of doughnuts goes all long way to getting that report finished when your printer jams. 

The next rule is a critical one when supervising another employee: lead by example not by exemption.  This protects them and you.  If you are unwilling to perform a dirty deed as a supervisor, how can you expect a less experienced employee to do it?  And if that less experienced—and most likely lesser paid—employee can do what you can not or will not do, you may soon be asking them to carry your paper box of personal items out the door as your last act as supervisor. 

This brings me to my rule of toilet repair: never be too good to use a toilet plunger.  When a person reaches a place where he or she no longer feels able to face this task, that person is in danger of forgetting that everyone is capable of creating that same mess.  In order to truly make others feel comfortable we have to face challenges of a less pleasurable nature and we have to remember the disasters of our own making.  Yes, once we are too good for the toilet plunger we are only steps away from the self-imposed ignorance that leads to true narcissism.  I plan to never achieve the type of success that makes me too good to use a toilet plunger…but it would be nice if my plunger had a gold-plated handle and maybe came with a matching tennis bracelet.

While these rules may seem simple and basic to many, think of the hoards of unemployed and job searching souls looking for employment.  Have they turned down a position because it seemed to “beneath them” or because they told themselves or allowed others to them they were “over qualified,” which is a lot like having too much money.  Yes, my rules are common sense but they are the key to being successfully employed.  So the next time you pass by the invisible custodian or forget who drops that mail on your desk, just remember you can be just as invisible and just as forgotten.  My toilet plunging skills may not be as impressive as an MBA, but until your MBA can unclog the toilet, step aside for the heroine of the flush.

 

Saved By the Bell Therapy January 17, 2010

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:31 am
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These Nine West heels are perfect for hanging at the Max, going to the big game, or just watching Saved by The Bell. Photo by Jean Thornton.

As another weekday morning dawns, alarm clocks buzz, showers spray, and across the country countless workers begin Saved By The Bell therapy.  No, this is not a new type of yoga or a different take on Pavlov’s classically conditioned dog; it is a throw back to the memories of our adolescent years and our old television friends from fictional Bayside High: trouble maker Zack Morris, head cheerleader Kelly Kapowski, athletic A.C. Slater, geeky Samuel “Screech” Powers, brainy Jessie Spano and stylish Lisa Turtle.   Let us not forget America’s favorite bumbling principal, Mr. Belding.  It doesn’t mater where you went to high school; everyone is a Bayside Tiger deep down inside. 

Monday thru Friday a daily class reunion is held and every adult under the age of 40 wants to attend.  TBS provides the wary professionals of the world with an alternative to the network morning news shows and the chatter on the basic cable’s 24 hour news stations.  It is not that these flashback viewers are uncaring about the world news; most of them are living that news.  They fear job loss, feel the pinch of the recession, and worry about foreclosure and/or the high costs of health care.   With all of these happy thoughts running through their heads, it is no wonder that they would rather escape to back to the days when our biggest worry was winning the volleyball tournament at the Malibu Sands Beach Club.

Remember the days when Zack and A.C. battled it out for the affections of Kelly and your biggest worry was rival Valley High School bringing in a Russian Chess champion to steal the title from Screech?  The days when The Max was the coolest restaurant in town and also where Casey Kasem held a dance contest.  You dreamed of having a cell phone like Zack’s, which was the size of a small briefcase.  Yes, there were difficult times, like when Jesse got hooked on caffeine pills or Kelly dumped Zack for the new college-guy manager at The Max.  Whether the problem was getting caught with fake I.D.s or discovering the new girl at the mall was actually homeless, the predicament could always be solved with one of Zack’s crazy schemes.

Depending on your age, you may have a preference for a certain period of Saved By The Bell—maybe the early years when Zack, Screech, and Lisa were lowly seventh graders in Miss Bliss’s history class.  By far the most popular span was during the high school years with all the joys of dating, running teen help lines and an endless stream of teen drama.   Later, it was onto Saved By The Bell: The College Years with new friends in co-ed dorm rooms, a couple of dates with a professor and even a rave.  Like all good sitcoms it ended with a TV movie special where the whole gang heads to Vegas for Zack and Kelly’s wedding.

Just like the rest of us, our friends at Bayside High school grew up and became adults too.  The push for an actual reunion show became a pop culture hot button issue last year; not so much to see the actors again, but to see the characters they portrayed.  I like to think that Zack and Kelly are still together; they probably have twin girls and a rascal of a little boy.  I imagine A.C. is divorced from his first wife, and Jessie would be Obama’s choice for the Supreme Court Justice spot.  Lisa is the chief editor at a fashion magazine and Screech is either a science teacher at Bayside or is a porn star.  Today, our friends from Bayside are probably a lot like we are.  They wake up and get ready for work, walk the dog, grab a quick breakfast and worry about their 401ks.

All of them, like us, long for a time when things were simpler, when our team always won the big game on Friday nights, there was a dance every weekend and all our problems could be solved by a long talk with the principal, usually within a half hour.  We now live in a world where the morning news shows are often riddled with declining home values and political scandals—which makes it nice to spend part of our morning with the gang from Bayside High and to be truly Saved By the Bell from the real world.

 

The Straying Shoe Girl January 10, 2010

Filed under: Love Me, Love My Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:01 am
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These Steve Madden's were love at first sight... of course so were the other 3 pairs I bought too. Photo by Jean Thornton.

Shoe monogamy may not be a hot topic, but recent celebrity scandals have prompted me to think a little a bit about the wandering eye I have when it comes to my true love—shoes.  No public figure can completely escape the glare of the magnifying glass that those with more private and less exciting lives tend to apply.  And those outsider views also bring a self-imposed right to debate and determine what they judge to be a fitting punishment.  While The Island Shoe Girl lives a pretty anonymous life (okay I am not shy when it comes to publicity), I cannot help but turn my own critical, know-it-all eye on myself and my inability to stay faithful to one shoe designer, let alone one shoe.

When it comes to personal relationships I can proudly say I have never betrayed the trust of another, but when it comes to shoes, my feet are pretty much the biggest ‘toe whores’ you can find.  Sometimes I am in and out of several pairs a day, loving them and then leaving them back in the shoe closet as quickly as I can slip them on and off.  Yes, one minute open-toe pumps the next knee-high boots with zippers that twist around my calf.  It’s not that I don’t love the little soles attached to each pair; in fact, I may love them all too much.  I simply have a big heart and, while my shoe closet does not match my heart size, I always find a little more room for the next pair. 

I honestly do fall in love with shoes; many times I have declared a pair the ultimate accomplishment in shoes.  Yet, as soon as the scuffs are on the soles and the design has been admired by others, my mind begins to think of what other shoes may be out there.  Could a pair of Kate Spade suede stilettos be out there waiting for me tomorrow, or should I stop with the Michael Kors’ platforms under toe today?  The curiosity of what waits for me beneath the next shoe box lid keeps me straying from one pair to another. 

I can understand when wandering eyes prowl the shoe section despite having the support of fabulous footwear under their legs.  I myself have cruised the displays of fanciful shoes, fully aware that back home another pair waits for me faithfully, never thinking of another foot.  Like a john searching for a cheap thrill, what I have at home in my shoe closet is never enough to appease my wondering mind.  My addiction, however, may only come with hefty credit card bills and another pair of strappy black sandals—the addictions that break the hearts, souls, and trust of people usually carry far more damaging scars.  

If my shoes could talk they probably could tell a few tales I don’t want out there…especially the ones that I wore during the last Fantasy Fest!   If there is a shoe gossip fest behind my closet door, I hope the older shoes are breaking it gently to the new shoes.  I can see it now—the Betsy Johnson silver maryjane’s calmly explain to the Juicy Couture pumps that I won’t be calling on either of them tonight.  This leads me to wonder if my shoes tell themselves the same things “the other women” frequently say in the aftermath, “she told me she loved me,” or “when she picked me up she said I was different from all the others.”

Perhaps it would be wise for me and others to re-examine our own morals and ethics before throwing judgment at the feet of those who may remain shoe faithful but fail in other areas.  After all, if life has taught this shoe girl one thing it’s that the other shoe is always waiting to drop.  If you are not careful it could land on your own toe with quite a thud.

My poor shoes might be just as misguided by my wandering toes as those who fall for people who have wandering hearts and eyes.  Shoe games surely are not as hurtful as games played with the heart.  My only solace is that I have never promised a single shoe my constant devotion.  I admit outright what I am.  Could there be a day when my feet belong to one pair of shoes?  Possibly, but I wouldn’t place any bets

 

Good Shoes for a Good Cause! January 7, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — theislandshoegirl @ 12:12 pm
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The Island Shoe Girl is giving big thumbs and heels up to Payless Shoes and their Payless Shoes 4 Kids program which donated $1.2 million worth of shoes to children through 700 nonprofits, including the Florida Keys Outreach Coalition in Key West. Way to go Payless!

 

I Can Drive in Platforms January 3, 2010

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:03 am
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It takes patience and great shoes, like these Michael Kors' platforms to navigate life. Photo by Jean Thornton.

On a Sunday afternoon I catch myself giving a self-imposed evaluation of what have I learned lately.  The results are frightening.  As an adult my self-education is more disappointing than my Spanish grades were in high school.  There are many familiar old areas of failure: my checkbook shows that my math skills have remained stalled as there is a general disagreement between the bank’s definition of “balanced” and my own.  When it comes to decimal points, it is best to let someone else move those annoying little dots. 

My knowledge of sports has actually become worse during recent years.  It could be that the island I live on is generally not interested in sporting events.  On a college football Saturday I watch “fans” of the competing teams take cigarette breaks during the game outside the local sports bar, dressed in jerseys, knee high stripped socks, and hats done in jarring team colors.  I have never understood how fans with horribly tacky fashion make a player compete better. 

As to the skills pressed upon me in Home Economics, such as maintaining a cleaning “schedule” I can move my housekeeping skills into the “needs improvement” column of my adult report card.  In the realm of cooking, being a student of Ohio cuisine enables me to make a meal based around a Crockpot and cream of mushroom soup in my sleep or a cheesecake that would make Jenny Craig cry.  But beyond that my skills are limited.  Give me a filet of fish and I would not have clue what to do with it.  It’s like that old saying, “Give a shoe girl a fish; she’ll give you a dirty look.  Teach a shoe girl to fish; she’ll break your pole.”

Despite my many inadequacies, I can list a few things where I excel.  I can multitask—wrangling my Jack Russell’s leash with one hand while talking on the cell phone during a walk.  I cannot pair wines to multi-course meals, but I can make witty banter over cosmos with a stranger just as easily as I can with a close friend.   I can not remember the name of my insurance company, but I can tell you the last ten pairs of heels I bought.  Bring your shoe troubles to me and I can show you how a silver stiletto can be the splash your outfit needs! 

 And I can drive in platforms!  Laugh if you want at this talent, but strap a block of wood to your feet and see how quickly you jump the curb or worse yet, the bumper of another car.  I am a master of the road in platforms; I know when to apply less to the gas or more to the brakes.  I can adjust the slant of my foot without awkwardness or discomfort.  While some complain about moving their seat the slightest bit, it is just part of driving with the multitude of shoes that find their way onto my feet.  

When you think about it, driving in platforms is a lot like life—sometimes you have to adjust the amount of pressure applied to a situation.  Sometimes you have to give yourself a little more room for the sake of safety.  You always have to wear your safety belt and be prepared for a sudden stop or to pull over and park yourself when you need a rest.  If you can parallel park in platforms, you can handle just about any maneuver that life gives you.  

Maybe knowing how to drive in platforms is the key knowing how to handle the many obstacles that present themselves in adult life.  While maneuvering the many types of relationship roadblocks may not be something taught in high school courses, it could be said driving in platforms has taught me how to manage my love affair with shoes and the reality of life.  Sometimes to survive the road trip of love you have to pull over and take a break or take your foot of the acceleration, after enjoying the view from slow drives are half the fun—how can you window shop if you are speeding by.  And while being able to drive in platforms may not save me from all the heart ache or blisters, it certainly has made me appreciate the passengers I travel with. 

 There are many things I am still trying to learn.   One day my bank and I will actually agree on my checking balance; some day I will learn how to cook something other than spaghetti, I will not go as far as saying I will support a sporting team with bad fashion choices.   But I don’t fear learning new things; if I can learn to drive in platforms then maybe I shouldn’t give up on mastering long division just yet.

 

 
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