My shoe collection is looking really grim. I haven't bought fun shoes in ages. The last three pair I brought home were boring, sensible, comfortable, slip-on flats. I used to have the most wonderful shoes. Well, I still have many of them, but I never wear them now. I think this is a token of being both fatter and wiser than in my youth.
See, I really love clothes, but I've usually been the wrong body shape to wear the trendy stuff. Hip, trendy stuff looks great on women with no boobs. Trust me, if you have boobs, the really modern designs looks stupid like you're someone's mom trying to wear her daughter's clothing. Ditto designer togs. I noticed the same trend in Italy, by the way. Everything that was cute was for size 6 women. The clothes for women over 30 were just as ugly and tent-like as in the U.S., only not quite as plain. Italian women love their patterns.
These days, I generally choose plain fabrics, neutral or earth tones, and avoid anything that requires special underwear like strapless bras or slit slips, etc. I wear a lot of cotton dresses, rayon tunics, and slim pants or leggings. No more miniskirts, see-through sleeves, hot pants, or leather dresses. They look good out clubbing but they look silly at the office. Still, I like being fashionable. I read the magazines, I wear the latest colors, I eschew the old-fashioned girlie styles so popular here in Nashville.
So what are you going to do if you love being fashionable but fashion doesn't love you? Accessorize, darling! My favorite accessory has always been shoes. My mom once told me I ran around at age 5 showing off my Mary Janes to complete strangers, saying, "Look at my new shoes!" Said shoes were six months old and quite obviously not new any more. I was still experiencing the thrill, I guess. I've been known to build entire wardrobes around a single pair of fabulous shoes. And finding those fabulous shoes is a wholly gratifying experience, both the search and the find. The perfect heel with the perfect material is one particular quest. The exact perfect shade to match a dress is another (sure, I could have the shoes dyed, but it's more fun to hunt them up).
I own 75 pairs of shoes. Shocked? Some of them are collectibles only: I would never wear my grandmother's 1930's ballroom shoes, or the plastic and turquoise lame 50's cocktail shoes. But that's because they're not my size. I don't wear the gorgeously engineered scarlet velvet heels with black roses at the toes, or the four inch stiletto heels just perfect for dominatrix outfits. I sometimes wear my shiny gold shoes that leave trails of golden glitter everywhere to parties, but only if I'm not going to be standing for long or walking further than up the driveway. I never wear my wedding shoes, as they're iridescent purple with rhinestones and other fake jewels glued on them, and I'd be really mad if I lost a rhinestone. Some are seasonal, like the snow boots and the waterproof stuff. Some are genuinely follies: I can only wear them with one outfit, but they are perfection itself when I wear that outfit so I don't care that I can't wear them with anything else. I do wear about 30 pair regularly and another dozen or so infrequently.
All the same, I don't buy many purely fun shoes anymore. I look longingly at the leopard-skin heels, the fancy laced boots, the glamorous patent leather chunkies, but I don't buy. I have lots of fancy shoes to wear, I don't really need more. What I need are shoes to wear to work, shoes that won't hurt my feet or give me bunions or look absurd with my genteely low-key wardrobe. I miss the old days, though.
I guess I should do a Shoes of My Past to compliment my Hopelessly Hip Hairstyles section, eh? Then you'd all see how fabulously fashionable I can be when I'm in the mood. Martini, anyone?
The IndexNext Entry