I fell in love with shoes at an early age. My Mom, who was all of 4' 10" tall, always wore the most beautiful high heels, shoes she lovingly brushed and polished to perfection before leaving for her job each day. The moment I slipped my 3-year old tootsies inside a pair of her strappy high-heeled sandals, I was hooked. I felt tall, grown-up and empowered -- a toddler to be reckoned with.
My love affair with shoes was fostered by my Papa D, who always took us to the Red Goose store for new shoes when we visited him and Grandma D in Cleveland. While my sisters wanted practical white-and-brown saddle shoes, I was more interested in shiny, black patent leather Mary Janes or white patent T-straps. Which was fine with Papa as long as the shoes were well-made and properly fitted, criteria I still look for today when shoe shopping.
In grade school, other kids wrote essays about their heroes -- Superman, the Lone Ranger, Barbie, Nancy Drew, etc. -- but my heroes were Ferragamo, Perugia, Amano, and yes, Buster Brown.
In high school, I discovered "French" stiletto shoes with their pointy toes and 4" high heels that could puncture linoleum floor tiles or the foot of your prom date...but they were sexy. Since Mom donated the part of the gene pool that gave me my towering five foot nothing height, the heels gave me that same feeling I'd had as a toddler. Who cared if podiatrists warned women that the pointy toe box cramped the foot and would cause bunions and other foot problems? These heels made me feel tall and elegant, and wearing a pair of these pretty babies, I could actually see more of my date than his shirt buttons, too.
Then there were those white go-go boots. Can anyone forget Goldie Hawn and Judy Carne dancing and giggling their way through Laugh In in those shiny vinyl knee highs? Or Nancy Sinatra singing about how her "Boots Were Made for Walking " as we did the Swim and the Monkey on the dance floor?
And let's not forget the dangerously beautiful platform heels. I don't mean the 6" platforms Elton John used to wear during his concerts, the ones sold at Thom McCann were dangerous enough for someone who had weak ankles -- especially when she's running through O'Hare Airport because she's late and is trying to catch a connecting flight. There's a reason stewardesses wore sensible black pumps back then.
Nowadays, I drool over Jimmy Choo's elegant pumps, Christian Louboutin's trademark red soles, Manolo Blahnik's sandals, and Ferragamo's bold mixing of textures and colors. I admit, more than once I've found an incredible pair of shoes and shopped until I could find an outfit to go with them.
Yes, I love shoes. Always have and always will -- I even collect miniature shoe figurines. That's why I'm currently at work on a mystery novel called Sole Music, and it's why I started this blog.
Hope you'll come along the journey with me and enjoy!
~ Marti
