shoes

Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them

admin — Thu, 20 May 2010 16:01:00 +0000

With my feet encased in a pair of red Mary Jane pumps, I sat at my desk reading Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them. As a self-described “shoe girl” and vehement hypochondriac I nervously turned the pages, bracing for bad news.

In her book, author Leora Tanenbaum outlines some of the extreme practices women have undergone in the name of footwear—like the practice of foot binding in tenth century China—and gives anecdotal evidence about the serious foot, knee, and back injuries that can arise from wearing modern-day heels. There is a section of the book dedicated to foot maladies. I squirmed through it. Another section discusses cosmetic surgery of the foot, followed by accounts of surgery “horror stories.” Throughout, women discuss the pain their high heels have caused them. All of this is coupled with inconvenient, scientific facts that all confirm high heels can, over time, cause physical pain and deformity.

According to Tanenbaum, shoes are not supposed to hurt, a fact I had never considered. Truth be told, even my “comfortable” office shoes—a beautiful pair of open-toed ballet flats—squish my toes together and dig into my heels as I walk. This, according to Tanenbaum, is neither normal nor healthy for the foot. I’ve never taken the time to find a pair of shoes that are both comfortable and beautiful—mostly because I didn’t believe that such a pair existed.

Tut, tut, Tanenbaum would say. There are countless brands of foot-friendly shoes, some of which are provided in the book. One that I have recently become enamored with, thanks to Tanenbaum’s recommendation, is the Born shoe brand. A recent shopping trip yielded me a stunning (and comfortable!) pair of silver gladiator sandals that leave me feeling as though I am walking on air.

Generally speaking, I love my shoes very much. Any book that will try to scare me away from them will only temporarily divert my attention, and Tanenbaum is aware of this fact. Although she concedes that there are social pressures encouraging women to wear pumps, she does not believe that high heels are “unfeminist.” Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them does not attempt to stop women from wearing the shoes they love; it simply suggests that the indulgence be limited to a few hours a week and that comfortable shoes with orthopedic inserts are worn when possible.

Bad Shoes and the Women Who Love Them should be a prerequisite for all shoe-enthusiasts. The book offers practical advice that can easily be incorporated into even the most fashionable of wardrobes. As I type this I am wearing a great pair of black bootie pumps. Although once uncomfortable, I’ve made them substantially more wearable, thanks to the over-the-counter orthopedic inserts I picked up as per Tanenbaum’s suggestion. With a little practical planning, it appears—to borrow from a tired cliché—that women can have their shoes and wear them too, so long as they are smart about it.

Written by: Cheryl Santa Maria, May 20th 2010

The Marcelle

admin — Mon, 25 May 2009 17:47:00 +0000

By Dansko

Apparently Danish feminists demand, “Respect, equal wages, and orgasms.” Fortunately, they don't have to demand comfortable shoes, as Denmark is where Danskos come from. Full disclosure: I have been a Dansko fan for years. When I finally met the right podiatrist, after repeatedly having fractures misdiagnosed as neuromas, he told me that I was permitted to wear one of two brands for the remainder of my days. One of them is Dansko. I wear a pair—fun red fake-fur clogs with black leopard spots—as I type.

Dansko wearers form a secret society—we nod at one another upon recognition. These sturdy Danish clogs are endorsed by doctors, nurses, teachers, food servers—anyone who has to spend significant time on their feet. Seeing that I have been medically forbidden stilettos, it is a delight that there are attractive orthpoedically sound shoes available in addition to clogs and walking sandals, and Dansko provides just these. The Marcelle is charming, and there are also designs available with a taller chunk heel. The Trixie looks positively evening-worthy—quite an evolution from the stapled clogs first carried over in their luggage by Mandy Cabot and Peter Kjellerup from Peter's hometown in the late 1980s. Their friends and family became recipients: the shoes were so popular that retail purchase and suitcase shipping were no longer viable. Tak for bringing Danskos to the States.

Written by: Erika Mikkalo, May 25th 2009

Azure Sanita Professional Clogs / LUSH Foot Products

admin — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 17:06:00 +0000

By LUSH, Sanita Clogs

R.I.P. Fizz, 1995—2009

Yes, I hate being a stereotype-come-to-life, but I have been medically prohibited from wearing anything other than very healthy shoes. At least I do not own many cats. Nor do I own any reptiles, or other exotic pets. Actually, I am on bereavement leave regarding the loss of my dog, an extraordinary shelter Greyhound-Doberman mutt, Fizz.

The dog left the planet on Monday, March 23, at 5:15 p.m. People have been very kind: at the clinic, one man looked at the empty lead, and looked at my tear-streaked face, and looked at the empty lead, and looked at my tear-streaked face, and looked away, not saying a word. It was a nice surprise to find some Sanita clogs to cheer me up. If Fizz was here, I'd try them on and say, “Walkies!” and he'd at least wag his tail slightly, no longer capable of locomotion, and try to stand, however feebly. I did the right thing.

Sanita clogs are made in Denmark, and apparently were first hewn by Christen Andersen, who distributed them by bicycle. How wholesome. They have been handcrafted in Europe since 1907. It makes me glad that these particular shoes are bright blue, and that I can wear them to fun events in Chicago such as female Elvis impersonator performances. Apparently "Old Shep" was Elvis's favorite song. There is a 24-Hour Church of Elvis in Portland, Oregon, where I had a childhood dog named Shep. Sanita does not have 100-Dalmatians hide shoes, but "wild" zebra-patterned clogs are available.

Not only can I attempt to attain "Happy Feet" with fun, sturdy, fashionable shoes, I can also doctor my feet with some delectably "spicy," almost dessert-like products: LUSH makes Fair Trade mint foot lotion and a spearmint-seasoned body butter. Slathering Running To The Embassy on after the pink foot mask, my toes became fragrant, and my calluses, no longer an embarrassment reminiscent of the Kalahari—or perhaps a Mississippi field during a drought. Between the solid, well-engineered, forward-propelling shoes and comforting ungents, I could spend all day traipsing around Graceland. Self-care is for all: comfortable feet are universally appreciated—no one wants their dogs to bark.

And Fizz was not "nothing but a hound dog."

Written by: Erika Mikkalo, April 9th 2009