an ode (in prose) to a shoe boot

I’m afraid that once again I have to apologize for the lack of substantial posts. Recently my well-balanced and boring life has seen some changes, which I am desirous to embrace…but one thing at a time!
Most of the grey matter’s capacity for creative writing is given away to the magazine, of course. Yesterday I spent the entire day wasting printer’s ink which did seem destructive at first but turned into productive, at last – I’ve managed to layout and print the most of the magazine, yet realizing that I’m missing quite a lot of the visual stuff.
Hence, on Saturday I’ll be shooting a mini installation-set with wooden furniture and shoes – probably the two most favourite subjects of mine. And the following week I’ll be running around and looking for more contributors. So that’s the news.
Well, if I’ve been mentioning shoes, I permit myself yet another momentary lapse of reason and publish a shoe-dedicated post. Lately I’ve been looking back onto the styles that inspire me – those that have been lingering in my wardrobe and the ones I am very much reluctant to part with, even though I don’t take them out in daylight anymore. Those are some age-old Stephan Schneider, Christian Wijnants, Veronique Branquinho and Bernhard Willhelm pieces that are condemned to the eternal imprisonment within the limited space of the closet – I don’t wear them, but every time I shuffle them around the closet I have a strong nostalgia and loads of memories linked to each garment. This made me realise that I should be looking for the similar experience in the new clothes – not necessarily the style or colour, but the way they make me feel. No matter how awkward it may sound, but I want the clothes to make me feel a certain way and I’m shopping like I were blind. This makes me long for fur and mohair (please, someone find me a fur dress! Fur makes me purr). But to contrast the texture I wanted something a whole lot different: black leather, heavy metal buckles, stud ornaments, and most importantly – no heels (!). Do you see where I’m getting to?

These are not Alexander Wang, but they are as heavily studded and as metal-buckled as a rockabilly shoe can be, plus walking with those is as comfortable as walking on a cloud of cotton candy. Away with the sculpted heels and icky compensated platforms a la Nicholas Kirkwood!


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