The Island Shoe Girl's Blog

Where shoes meet sand…

Let Them Wear Flats March 11, 2012

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 10:58 am
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Not everyone wants to live in stilettos, but that just leaves more for everyone else. Photo by Jean Thornton

Lately, it seems like no one can let anyone else have his or her own opinions.  It’s not just that you have your own opinion and someone with a differing opinion says, “Oh, okay that’s nice” and then goes along with their day—or even just offers a respectful reply that states a differing view point without attacking.  But, no! Instead, the disagreeing person has to attack the speaker with the differing opinion, not based on any inaccuracies in their statements, but with horrific personal attacks that have little to nothing to do with the original issue.

So I would like to shed some light on how to be a polite adult when dealing with someone you do not see eye-to-eye with.  It’s a well-known fact that I am a bit of high heel fanatic.  I prefer a good five inches beneath me on a daily basis.  I think a day without towering heels is like a night sky without stars; sure you can still look up, but what is there to see without a little sparkle?  My legs are permanently altered by my love of high heels; my foot doctor is basically convinced I can never wear flat shoes again without doing actual physical harm to myself.  While this might cause some concerns for those not so enthusiastic about stilettos, I look it as a huge achievement…not to mention it might keep me from ever having to participate in any forced physical labor. 

Nonetheless I do not attack those who do not share my desire to see the world from atop of stilettos.  Sure, I might not like when others wear flats.  I might think to myself that a girl in flip- flops and a sundress could improve her style with a cute kitten heel or perhaps a strappy wedge…okay so sometimes I do tell the flip-flop wearer.  But what is important is that I do not attack that flip-flop wearer I try to educate them to my point of view.  At no time do I find an urge to call the flip-flop wearer a slut or prostitute.  I do not tell that flip-flop wearer I think she is cheap because those flops came from a store that ended with a “mart.” Or that the slabs of plastic she calls footwear were made in foreign country and therefore she must be a traitor. 

Yes, I may know that wearing flat shoes will do nothing to improve either the appearance of the wearers’ butts or their posture that naturally comes with wearing heels.  However, I do not criticize their butts because slamming someone’s physical traits is something a small child, mean high school girl, or bitter housewife might do.  A mature adult would simply present his/her side of the issue and let it go at that—just like a mature adult would say goodnight to her heels every night. So I say, “Let them wear flats!” Because if wearing flats makes you personally happy and at the end of the day it does not affect my own personal happiness and right to wear high heels, then what does it really matter?

After all, with all of the larger issues in the world to be upset about, and with all of the truly bad things happening out there, is it really worth getting upset just because I might choose to live differently than someone else.  If at the end of the day I can at least see the other side of another person’s point of view and they can see mine, aren’t we both the bigger person?  And one of us might even be the taller for it. 

So yes! Let them wear flats! And leave the stilettos for me.

 

Believing in Jupiter March 4, 2012

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 4:24 pm
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Perfect shoes for gazing at Jupiter and beyond. Photo by Jean Thornton.

The other evening on the national news there was a brief mention that, due to a rare aligning of the stars and planets, Jupiter would be visible to the naked human eye.  Later during my nightly walk with my faithful dog Stanley, I looked up at the sky and remembered this little astronomy tidbit.  From the sidewalk I could clearly see the moon and a second large, brightly glowing object slightly to the side of the moon.  While I was uncertain if this second radiant spot in the sky was merely a brighter star or truly the depths of space, I choose to believe the latter. 

I could not help but feel that by believing I was catching a glimpse of Jupiter I was perhaps also reminding myself of the larger mystery of true belief.  Sure, the thought that I was catching a hint of the great beyond that most nights would only be found by telescope might be a stretch of the imagination.  Then again, so much of life…at least my shoe life…is true stretch, especially for my calf muscles.

As I strolled along the street, my mind wandered to the many other things that I had managed to blindly believe in life.  I have the strong belief that Manolo Blahnik thinks of women like me when designing a pair of heels and not just of socialites and debutantes.  I truly believe that Mr. Blahnik imagines his stilettos beneath my toes as I glide through the grocery store.  I blindly believe that each buckle, rhinestone, and embellished strap is meant for a hardworking girl who saved and scrimped for those pretty designs.    

I believe with total certainty that while karma is a bitch, she is also very fair and just.  And while sometimes other aspects of life might not be fair, good karma will work it all out in the end.  Karma corrects what others things cannot and is the reason revenge is often unnecessary.  At the end of the day, little else matters if I am the person my dog thinks I am and, if he can have unending faith in me, I can as well. 

I believe that when so much else in life is completely impractical there is no point in my shoes being pratical.   Sometimes my thoughts may seem outlandish and my ideas might seem larger than my brain can process.  Yet, my most ridiculous ideas have become some of my best, and my biggest regrets are the ideas I let fade away.  It is because I can believe in those crazy thoughts I can still believe that Paris is more than a picture on a postcard; it’s a destination within reach some day. 

So…if I can believe in all of these things, then surely thinking I can see Jupiter as I stroll down the sidewalk on a little island far below the stars is not so out-of-the-realm of rational thinking.  Because just maybe, as I walk along, somewhere Manolo is sketching a heel for a single shoe girl who walks her dog in stilettos, and maybe somewhere karma is correcting whoever hit and ran my car in 2006.  After all, as long as Paris is just a passport stamp away and my dog loves me, seeing the farthest corners of space is very easy to believe too.

 

Men of Science vs. Women of Stilettos January 29, 2012

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 10:14 am
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Who needs science when you have stilettos? Photo by Jean Thornton

Sometimes I think men are just jealous of how strong women really are.  How else can you explain some men’s constant attacks on women’s footwear?  The most recent of these attacks came from two scientists whose recent research findings were published in the Journal of Applied Physiology.  These men of science say their research shows that women who wear heels for 40 hours or more a week moved with shorter, more forceful strides, and that stiletto strutting ladies’ feet were perpetually flexed in a toes pointed position.  These movements continue even when barefoot (okay, here is the first issue I have with this study—why are they taking off their shoes?) because the fibers in the calf muscles of shoe girls had shortened, thus putting much greater mechanical strain on their calf muscles than those women who had the poor taste to wear flat shoes. 

Men of Science, such as these researchers, might have a few x-rays, statistics, and charts on their side and perhaps some proven facts.  But as a Woman of Stiletto I cannot help but find fault with this study.  First of all, the designers did not study each woman in heels of varying heights.  I think it’s perfectly logical to assume that any woman who wears heels for 40 hours or more a week likely has a vast variety of shoes in many types of styles, heel heights, and support.  A Mary Jane pump might provide greater support than a strappy sandal.  A good shoe girl would recognize this and consider this when selecting shoes for the day.  Yes, many of us shoe girls will push ourselves to extreme for a cocktail party or evening out, but we generally have better sense when preparing for a busy day at the office.  It is logical to wear those more sensible Mary Jane Pumps when strutting up the street. 

Another problem I see with this study is that is was not done in a natural environment, but inside a laboratory instead.  Here the women were put through controlled tests, walking certain distances while having their every move (or lack their of) recorded with electrodes.  But Women of Stilettos do not simply walk back and forth in a laboratory!  We strut down the street with confidence and grace to a sound track in our mind.  Show me a girl wobbling in her heels, and I will show you a girl with no personal theme song playing.  This study also gave the Women of Stilettos a lack of purpose in their walk.  A woman with a destination and drive behind her walk is a woman on a clear mission.  She is moving not to go solely from one side of a room to another, but to go somewhere, to do something with her actions. 

But beyond these issues I see with how the research was conducted, and I offer another theory, which is this: Women of Stilettos are women of faith.  We climbed on top of something that should scientifically and logically not hold our weight.  No one would design a building with the logic of putting all the weight onto two tiny spokes.  Yet, women do it and have faith that we can hold ourselves up.  Women of Stilettos are women who believe that we will not fall down; even when we wobble a little we can self correct.  We see the world of cobble stone roads, loose gravel walkways, or grassy fields not as hindrances but just other challenges to overcome.  They are just another step that must be taken to move forward. That step might be shorter but they are forceful steps as the research of Men of Science shows. 

Men of Science might be able to measure how my toes point even when resting or that my calf muscles have been altered by my choice of shoes.  But as a Women of Stiletto I kind of have to shrug my shoulders and say, “so what” and simply keep on walking.  Because a Women of Stiletto does not stop long enough to hear what Men of Science have researched; we are too busy moving ahead.

 

A Little Future to Go July 17, 2011

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 7:46 am
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With a good pair of heels, my future is wide open. Photo by Jean Thornton

Regular readers, friends, and family will know that the last three weeks have been very challenging.  A strange series of events led to my condo building being set on fire.  While the damage to my own home was significant, I was able to save the majority of my personal belongings.  The first time I was permitted to go back into my home, I was advised by the fire marshal to grab only the necessary items.  Little did he know that I considered 161 pairs of shoes essential.

Thinking I would be back the next day to retrieve more items, I focused mainly on clothes and shoes, due to concern that they would be damaged or permanently soiled from the water and smoke.  The next day I learned I could not go back into the unit since there was a great concern that the structural damage could be much worse.  Thus I found myself without many things that were normally part of my daily routine. 

One such thing was perfume.  And while I know one can live without perfume…soap not so much….it did not make the gap in my morning routine any less noticeable for me. 

While I have never considered myself a perfume expert or fanatic, I have always considered it an important accessory—especially when spending time standing outside in the hotKey Westsun talking to insurance adjusters.  But more so than just keeping me smelling sweet, perfume was yet another normalcy suddenly missing in my life. 

Coco Chanel once said, “A woman who doesn’t wear perfume has no future.”  And let’s face it,Cocoknew perfume and she also knew how to create a good future for herself.   If there is one thing that I know now, it is that dealing with a fire in your home can also make you question your future.  Suddenly, something that you worked and saved for, that you searched and prayed for, is taken from you with out any notice.  The reality is that for many of us our home is our future and the largest financial investment we make in ourselves. 

As the days after the fire seemed to only begat more days of frustration, sadness, and fear, my future seemed lost in a shuffle of insurance inspections, policies reviews, and what seemed like always-worsening news.  This is not to say that I was on a ledge of despair ready to jump into an abyss of self-pity.   I had many great friends continuously offering their support and help in many ways.  Yet, at the end of the day I was not going home.  And the truth is I am not sure that the condo that once was home can ever feel that way again.

With so much changing every day from where I walk my dog to the pillows I sleep on, the comforts of “home” began to seem lost.  It was one day that first week as I was digging for a lost set of keys that my fingers found a hidden treasure in the depths of my Coach bag… a travel size bottle of my perfume!  It may have only been a few ounces, but the scent reminded me that each day I could put myself together and face the world.  Sure, that world may be completely different from anything I have known in the past, but my future was still mine to determine.  Yes, there might be some hurdles I didn’t expect, but there was still a future. 

I think Coco Chanel was right, “A woman who doesn’t wear perfume has no future,” but if I could accessorize Chanel a little, I would add, “but much like perfume, our future can go wherever we take it.”  My future still has many challenges…insurance paperwork and probably much more packing and unpacking.  But the future—much like my perfume—will be with me every step of the way.

 

Stilettos vs. Flip-Flops March 20, 2011

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 10:53 am
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Why be flat when you can wear this fabulous stilettos? Photo by Jean Thornton

There is nothing that makes me feel older than having my island invaded by Spring Breakers. As any beach-town resident where the temperatures are above 70 degrees in March can tell you, Spring Break can be a stressful time for the “locals”. Spring Break season is like hurricane season—you can never predict how many will come and exactly how much damage they will do. But just like hurricane season, they are unavoidable and generally more wind than storm.

This year Key West has been a popular destination for college students looking for a little fun in the sun. I don’t want to spread any ill will towards our young guests, and I fully acknowledge that I was once a twenty-something in search of cheap beer and a little R&R from my “full schedule” (that whole 16 hours of classes I had). But even the most laid back and patient islander can only take so many drunken scooter riders going the wrong way down a one-way street. After a while the cheers for a sorority or fraternity start to wear on our nerves when they drown out our favorite Rolling Stones’ song.

Perhaps I am getting old, maybe I am getting sober, or maybe the Spring Breakers are getting younger and drunker, but either way we are quickly becoming ‘un-relatable’ to one another. I do not blame the Spring Breakers, just as I do not blame myself. It’s just that, at these stages in our lives, we are looking for different things. They are looking a for a drink special in a souvenir plastic cup and I am looking for my next mortgage payment.

While there used to be a time when I saw Spring Break as a chance to get free drinks and impress college guys with my all-night partying skills, I now prefer someone who does not have a nickname that references a large mammal or body fluids. As I watched the herds of young adults in brightly colored t-shirts with Greek letters and sexually suggestive slogans written across them, I couldn’t help but wonder when the change occurs that separates the adults from the young adults.

Is it perhaps when we start defining a movie as funny despite it not having a sex scene with a pastry? Or is it when we realize that a free t-shirt is not a reason to sign up for a credit card? Maybe it is when we understand that wine has more classifications than white, red, and Boones Farm. I choose to think the answer lies in our footwear… well at least for the ladies.

After studying the feet of many a young woman on Spring Break, I have learned that the biggest difference between Spring Break girls and grown-up ladies is what lies beneath our feet. In general, it appears that college girls have yet to master the casual heel and remain slaves to the flatness of a flip-flop. Despite all of the advantages that a heel provides its wearers—nicer legs, slimmer ankles, and firmer butts—these girls naively choose the comfort of a flip-flop.

Perhaps their mothers never taught them how a kitten heel can create a look of casual elegance, but surely at some point, all adult women learn that a simple elevation can create an elongated appearance and a graceful stride. I can relate to their false beliefs that a flip-flop is acceptable footwear; I once had a great collection of them. But then I grew up and learned what a great stiletto can do for one’s self image. I discovered that it takes a certain level of maturity and style to pull off a heel.

I remind myself, though, not to cast these young ladies aside as hopeless fashion victims. I tell myself that they are simply in their youth, and unaware of how a heel can change their lives. For these Spring Breakers are still discovering themselves and their own personal styles. And just like their search for a drink special that is served in a coconut will eventually teach them that not all rum drinks are created equally, their days in flip- flops will eventually show them that a blister can come from shoes in all height levels.

As this weekend brings a new bunch of Spring Breakers to our little island, I am grateful because they stay in our hotels, buy cheap t-shirts, and only stay a week. And more importantly, they remind me of when I wore flip-flops and perhaps enjoyed some of the simpler, if not flatter, things in life. It also makes me extremely happy that I own a home in paradise, buy nice clothes, never have to leave, and have very tall shoes because I am an adult…most of the time.

 

And the Statue Goes To…. February 27, 2011

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 8:17 am
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A little gold around your toes makes the Oscars all the more fun! Photo by Jean Thornton.

Award season is coming to an end and soon the Oscar campaigning, champagne toasting, and statue-hugging acceptance speeches will be over for another year. As a true celebrity gossip lover, I cannot help but love this time of year when a Sunday evening is often filled with Red Carpets, glitzy dresses, and movie stars graciously acknowledging their fellow nominees. Of course I enjoy the backstage whispering, the cut away shots of losers and blatant self-promotion that happens as well.

Being a shoe lover, I often find myself looking down when a leading lady (and even a leading man) takes the red carpet or center stage. I am grateful that shoes are finally getting the attention they deserve when it comes to critiquing an outfit. Often thought of as the hidden element of award show style, at long last a peep-toe is more than just peeping out; it is being pushed into the spotlight! Yet among this year’s motion picture nominees these little darlings of the screen still seemed forgotten. So I have come up with a few ways to up the shoe ante and I think improve some of the story lines of this year’s feature films.

Black Swan is one of this year’s front runners for the Best Picture win, but perhaps this award would have been locked down if the ballerinas had ditched traditional toe shoes and instead strapped on some stilettos in their place. From the film’s depiction, toes take a beating in those ballet slippers so why not at least let those feet look hot in a pair of Christian Louboutin’s? I would be far more impressed if the final half of Swan Lake was done on toe and stiletto. And the right pair of shoes might have led to a happier ending.

The King’s Speech is also a crowd favorite this year. I have to admit I related since I spent many years in speech therapy. Years later, however, I will have to say the perfect heel gets me more attention than perfect pronunciation. I say who cares about the King’s speech—show us the Queen’s shoes! Let’s see the Queen Mum kick old Wallace Simpson out of the palace in style with a Dior boot.

When I first heard about 127 Hours, I thought it was a documentary about my last power shopping spree. I was disappointed (to say the least) when I learned that this was not a film about how to shop the Labor Day Weekend Sale at Nieman- Marcus, but instead about getting stuck in a crack. One time my heel got stuck in a sidewalk crack but I didn’t gnaw my ankle off. As for Inception, the whole thought of someone sneaking into my mind to steal my shoe dreams is far too frightening to even contemplate.

Winter’s Bone has won a lot of praise for its gritty look at the silent network of meth-cookers in the Ozarks and the real costs to their families caught up in the results. But really, would a cute boot have been too much to ask for? Hello—it’s winter! Accessorize! Those outfits were almost as depressing as the storyline. And while the strong female performances in The Kids Are Okay and The Fighter should definitely be honored, neither film offered the much-needed strong presence of stilettos.

I have to admit I am a big fan of True Grit, which I found to be one of the film highlights of the year. Yet, if little Hailee Steinfeld had only rocked some classic five-inch boots, she would have shown us all what real grit is. Anyone who has ever worked a classic pencil stiletto boot can tell you it’s a lot harder than riding with two worn-out cowboys. I understood the historical accuracy of the wardrobe, but I couldn’t help but think that Matt Damon would have looked a lot hotter in a better hat. And a little bead-dazzling of his eye patch would have surely held your eye on Jeff Bridges.

While helping films catch up on foot-ware style might be a challenge that has to be explored in the future, I can at least hope that the actresses will grace the red carpet in style. If Helena Bonham-Carter just gets matching shoes I feel a huge battle has been won. Now if only we can convince Natalie Portman to not wimp out and wear flats. Pregnancy is no excuse for bad shoes—at least when it comes to accepting golden statues.

 

A Stiletto Society January 9, 2011

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:09 am
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Could a Stiletto Society be the answer to our problems? Photo by Jean Thornton

Could a world exist with a stiletto-based society?  That is the question rattling around in my head lately.  My mind is frequently filled with thoughts of shoes in all shapes and sizes that come in a variety of colors and designs.  In my head and in any shoe section I see a world made of many different kinds of shoes that live peacefully with one another.  And it makes me wonder if a Stiletto Society isn’t the answer to many of the woes that plague the world I live in. 

Naturally when I think of a Stiletto Society I see a world where the road is smoother… I literally see a smooth road and sidewalk for my heels to walk across.  Those who remain flat-footed might not see the everyday dangers of a sidewalk crack or a cobblestone street, but a girl who struts in heels is a girl who has nearly eaten the sidewalk due to these lurking street dangers.  Thus a successful Stiletto Society would feature smooth roads which would surely benefit us all.  Anyone who has hit a pothole while driving or stubbed their toe on uneven pavement knows how these little bumps can put a damper on your day.  So the first step toward shoe safety and a more stress-free society are smooth roads and sidewalks.

In a Stiletto Society, the art of walking in very tall shoes is appreciated, and while many shoe girls can go for miles and never complain about the distance their heels carry them, from time to time a weaker woman might mumble a complaint.  I see this as no different than any other sign of frustration one might have when going a long distance in their career, for their family, or just to make it through the day.  I believe in a good Stiletto Society the road traveled should not always have to be so darn long.  Now I am not complaining about hard work or going the distance.  But that distance should be reasonable and the journey should not be without its own rewards.  Achievements and frustrations should be acknowledged; every now and then it’s good to let someone complain about a difficult day or toes that hurt.   Not to say “I told you so,” or hand out false compliments but to simply be a shoulder to lean on when life or a strappy heel is rubbing the wrong way.

Every person in a Stiletto Society has a chair at the table or a stool at the bar—depending on whether you are going to dinner or to Happy Hour.  Let’s face it, no one likes to stand around and be pushed away from the table or have to fight for attention at the bar, not to mention that when you are standing on the outside waiting for your place you get a little tired.  This can only breed frustration and feelings of being unwanted.  That is why in a Stiletto Society everyone has a chance to be an equal— to feel rested, relaxed and above all wanted.  If our society gave everyone an equal chance to sit at the table and be heard; we might not always get what we want, but at least we had a chance to say what our wants are. 

Perhaps what is most important principle of a Stiletto Society is that everyone has an equal chance to participate.  Regardless of age, race, religion or shoe size there is always a stiletto out there for anyone who wants it.  Some may not take the time to use their stilettos, but still it is there.  True, not all stilettos may be for everyone, but you can still respect another person’s stilettos.  That’s the true beauty of a Stiletto Society; we can all have different stilettos and still admire each stiletto for its originality and what it means to its owner. 

Of course in an ideal Stiletto Society we don’t have to pick just one stiletto to represent us all the time.  Stilettos can be changed as we change—just as the stiletto wearer can change.  Perhaps with time the wearer will want a taller stiletto or a shorter stiletto, depending are where the wearer is in life.  Yet, their stiletto choice is still to be respected and treated fairly.

While my dream of a perfect Stiletto Society may currently be realized only in my mind (and possibly shoe stores around the world), I still hope for a day where our society looks more like a Stiletto Society.  After all, couldn’t we all use a little more color, glamour, and fun in our life?  Not to mention that you can easily add 5 inches to your height and look really awesome too.  Hey, I am shoe girl, not a visionary.

 

Like Shoes on a Wire November 14, 2010

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 2:16 pm
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I would never hand these Betsy Johnson's from a wire! Photo by Jean Thornton

Every now and then I am truly confused by something….okay, at least twice a day I am truly confused by something.  But I recently noticed something that really challenged my grasp of shoe reality.  First, let me explain a little bit about Key West.  After living here for four years very little shocks me; naked woman on the city bus—normal; the disco bike lit-up with Christmas lights—normal; an iguana knocking over your trash can—normal.   When a weathered Key Wester is surprised by something, it is generally really good.  I am proud to say that on a few occasions, I have shocked a few Key Westers with my high heel collection and my ability to bike in them. 

So the sight that stopped me the other day had to be truly unique.  While waiting at a stoplight something hanging in the air caught my eye—a pair of gold pumps had been tied together and strung over a telephone wire.  Being from Ohio and having witnessed a few of the more … should we say “creative decorating styles” over the years, I have on occasion witnessed a pair of shoes thrown over power lines or phone lines.  But those were always athletic shoes or boots—shoes that require laces to be held in place.  Never had I seen a pair of heels strung up over the street.

Stoplights always seem way too long unless you have found something truly fascinating to look at and then they are bitterly short.  My time to analyze these high flying shoes was brief and all too soon I was moving along again.  Yet, the image of these sky high (literally) shoes could not be shaken from my mind. 

My thoughts were filled with endless questions about how the mystery shoes had ended up on that wire.  Who put them up there?  In Key West you never quite know who wears the pumps in any household.  Why on earth would anyone put a perfectly good pair of heels up there?  From what I could tell there were no signs of damage that would cause the shoes to be un-wearable.  And what exactly was the chain of events that led to the obviously thought-out process of securing them together and launching those golden heels up into the air in the middle of a fairly busy street?

It is not uncommon for my mind to be focused on thoughts of shoes…hello! I write a shoe blog!  But all things considered, these shoes should not haunt my thoughts as much as they do.  The shoes are obviously out of reach for me—unless I find a single guy with a cherry picker attachment on his truck.  There have been many times when I have looked at shoes that I can not obtain, generally because they cost too much, not because they are floating above my head.  Yet, these shoes confound me so much I find myself planning my driving routes around their presence.  “Yep,” I say to myself and to the bird next to them, “still there!”

I know there are far more rational things for me to think about and problems I could probably actually resolve in the time I spend parked beneath the gold heels pondering their existence.  But really, would cleaning my bathroom be as fascinating as coming up with detailed scenarios such as a crafty pigeon stealing the heels from a bedroom window sill and hoisting them over the telephone line?

To tell the truth if they disappeared I would probably be more upset.  That would spur a whole other batch of questions for me.  Who took them down?  Why did they take them down?  Are they the original owners?   Was this all some sick punishment for a blister they had caused? 

At the end of hours and hours of contemplation, the only way I can come to understand the gold shoes of Key West is to look at them as a metaphor for Key West itself and perhaps even the larger world.  Sometimes things just show up in unusual places for unexplainable reasons.  I am sure somewhere there is a higher power that can offer the specific explanation of how those heels arrived up on the wire.  But until the divine answers of life’s most baffling questions can be given, I just have to accept that sometimes the best reason one can come up with is that life is like shoes on a wire…strange and fascinating.

 

Spin-star September 26, 2010

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 7:19 am
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These Betsy Johnson heels are just waiting for a spin or two. Photo by Jean Thornton

When I received my Word-of-the-Day the other morning, I was surprised to see the selected word was ‘spinster’. I thought I knew everything about this word already but discovered it just might be a title already placed on me—but not for the usual reason. The definition read as follows: “Spinster; pronounced SPIN-stuhr; a noun: 1. A woman who has remained single beyond the usual age of marrying. 2. In law, a woman who has never married. 3. A woman whose occupation is spinning.” It turns out I kind of fall into the last definition very nicely.

At first glance it might be easy to assume that many a woman would not want the title spinster attached to them. The word itself conjures up images of a stern, older woman with her hair in a bun, knitting by the fire while wearing an ankle length dress and full-coverage sleeve. Throw in a comfortable pair of shoes and a shawl and you basically have the exact opposite of my idea of a Saturday night outfit. Yes, I have owned a cat, but I don’t think one kitty makes me a Crazy Cat Lady just yet.

In some parts of the world a single 28 year-old woman might be considered past the age of marrying, but as a girl of the Sex and The City generation, I feel at ease with my single status…unless I have to carry something really heavy and then I kind of like a guy around. So I don’t feel that the spinster title fits me in those two definitions. Even if the law disagrees with me— I challenge any legal document to ask me to check a “Spinster” box.

But I do spin and therefore I am a spinster or perhaps an amateur spin-star of sorts. Recently I began taking a poll dancing class at local gym. I stumbled into the classes when a male friend won a gift certificate for free pole dancing classes. He kindly offered them up to any female friend who perhaps could appreciate the class a little more. The classes piqued the inner dancer in me, who at an early age was almost booted out of ballet lessons for shaking my butt too much. Perhaps it was all those MTV videos I watched in my formative years in place of Sesame Street; but really, who wants to sing the alphabet when you could be singing “Material Girl”?

I also liked the idea of a form of exercise that I thought could be done in stilettos. I arrived for class in my Michael Kors’ high heeled tennis shoes prepared to shake my groove thang! While impressed by my tall tennis shoes, the instructor strongly suggested that heels and poles do not mix for beginners. The pole was strangely intimidating at first; I was certainly not performing live on stage, but the mirror wall alone was revealing enough. My instructor, a vivacious and voluptuous woman, had truly amazing skills and abilities when it came to that pole, not to mention a really toned body.

Not long into the class it was time for my first spin around the pole…literally. I was not a “natural,” probably refreshing news for my parents. The concept was simple: support yourself with your arms, place your legs loosely against the pole and let gravity bring you down. It turns out all of those Aerosmith videos with girls leaping onto the pole were a big, fat lie. It was a little scary to let my legs fly out from underneath me and trust the laws of gravity to set me down gently.

The day after my first class I discovered I used muscles I did not know were in me. It was a challenge to lift a bottle of wine the next day, although I did find the strength for plenty of whining as I moved my pole weary body through a daily routine. Once I got past the first 24 hours of sore muscles and got my mind and my body around the pole, it became strangely freeing. By the end of my second class I was twirling somewhat gracefully and pointing my toes as I rolled my hips off the pole. In between classes I thought through the moves I had learned and showed off my pole dancing bruises with pride to my friends. A new addiction had been born within me.

If I remain single awhile longer, I may have a few more years before I would be considered a ‘spinster’ by others, but who really cares if the title still provokes thoughts of a woman left out to pasture too long? For me the term spinster is something I can already apply to myself because I am woman who spins… around on a pole. No, it might not be the etymology most associate with the word; however, spinning yarn does not seem all that much fun. I am not in search of yet another occupation; this spinning is simply for good physical health and yes, for me.

It could be a very long time and many more classes before I change my title to the Island Spin Shoe Girl, but for now it’s fun to have the goal of being a spin-star and maybe mastering a few tricks in my heels. For now I will just have to settle for shaking my butt and doing a few Champagne spins.

 

American Shoe August 29, 2010

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 7:47 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

These Steve Madden chunky heels are only one part of my American Shoe closet. Photo by Jean Thornton

Is it just this shoe girl—or has the constant political chatter becoming deafening? Every day I feel bombarded with political ads, opinions, blogs, and media pressure to be continually on guard about my political views. For me, it has created an environment where, at times, I am afraid to speak my beliefs for fear that those around me will see it as a challenge to their own outlook. Remember when politics were debated once every four years and our representatives spent more time representing us and less time giving sound bites? Remember when you didn’t really care about someone’s political affiliation? Now it’s a question on Match.com!

It is no wonder that I have found myself escaping into my shoe closet and away from the harsh words thrown around by politicians who were once known for their elegant speeches and now Twitter sarcastic, cutting words at each other. I take comfort in the American Shoe closet I have made for myself. Of course not all shoes in there have originated in the USA, but that is no different from our own population. I can trace the German and Irish features of my ancestors in my characteristics, so why throw out a shoe with another origin? After all what is considered a true “American” shoe may just cause another argument for which there is no end. All I know is that all of my shoes—despite their birthplace—work equally hard to carry me on my journeys.

My shoe closet was founded on the belief that all shoes have the right to be worn; there are no wrong or right shoes. The shoes that line my shelves come from many different schools of design. Some shoes are perhaps a little more conservative, being closed toes and thicker heels that don’t necessarily catch the eye. Other shoes could be called flashy, even dangerous, with tall slender stilettos. Yet, as different as these shoes might be from one another, they each contribute equally to my shoe closet, each offering different elements needed to make my closet complete.

While some shoes may cost more and some shoes may be less expensive, all shoes are given the equal opportunity to be worn and shown off. Just because one shoe has a higher price tag does not guarantee that its needs are greater or that it will be used more often. Every outfit presents an equal opportunity for a shoe of any value to help complete the look. Attaching a designer name to a shoe does not give it priority; in fact, some of the most impressive shoes that have contributed greatly to my fashion style are the ones that perhaps had more humble beginnings. After all, it’s not really where the shoe comes from that determines where the shoe is going.

In my shoe closet, all dream shoes are possible. I know that just because a shoe seems hard to find or difficult to walk in does not mean it cannot be worn. Shoe dreams, like any other dreams, often require hard work, and in my shoe closet I must contribute to that work if I want to see dreams become reality. I can not simply put a pair of shoes in my closet and demand that those shoes take care of themselves. No, if I want my shoes to do their job properly, I understand that I must also take care of them. This means being aware of the condition of a shoe and providing some measure of care to ensure its continued well-being. And from time to time this means retiring a shoe that possibly has worked too long or no longer represents the needs of my toes.

Most importantly, in my shoe closet there is freedom of expression. Each shoe has its own unique style; it makes it own statement about what a shoe is. I think that as strange as it may sound; my shoes respect each other more for their differences and celebrate the variety each shoe offers. Surely a red heel can appreciate the contributions a blue shoe makes to some outfits while knowing this does not make the red heel fall short or be considered a lesser heel. The freedom of shoe expression can be shared by every pair, as each shoe knows that if the rights of one shoe to be a stiletto, a wedge, or a platform are lost then every shoe has lost some of its own uniqueness.

Is it wrong to wish that my country and its citizens were a little more like my shoe closet? Just like a shoe that has walked any distance, our citizens have been worn by their journeys of late—as the streets are surely not paved in gold. But we all must realize the value of a country comprised of many types of people, just like a closet made of many types of shoes. (A country where people have a right to be different in so many ways and yet be the same in their common purpose.) If every shoe has felt used (dare I say even abused) yet still felt they are a valued part of the shoe closet, shouldn’t we as citizens do the same for our country?

Yes, I may only find a perfect image of what this country could be and should be inside my shoe closet, but it gives me a little hope. In a time when so much of the news is about how we are fighting against one another with no time to understand each other, an American shoe closet might be the only relief I get.

 

 
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