Inspired by a discussion on Facebook, I put up a post on my personal blog page last Monday musing and meditating on shoes. Shoes I have known, and shoes I have desired. Sounds almost like blogging about men, doesn't it? Actually there are parallels, if you think about it. Not for nothing do we say, "So-and-so is as comfortable as an old shoe." And we all know men who are desperately attractive, but we don't want them because we know they will hurt us too much.
But I digress. I was talking about shoes. One of the Facebook friends mentioned Fluevogs and included a link. Naturally I followed it. I was truly impressed.
The Fluevog people will not only sell you the shoes, they will sell you parts for the shoes. These babies are built to last for many seasons. The Toyota of shoes. Replace the lifts, change the points and plugs and you're good to go for another 3,000 miles. Do Christian Louboutin and Jimmy Choo do that? I don't think so. By the time their soles and lifts wear out they're out of style, either that or you've fallen off them and turned your ankle, so that you vow to wear nothing but Birkenstocks for the rest of your life, and the hell with Anna Wintour.
I'm tempted. Fluevogs are a bit pricey, but they're about two-thirds of what you'd pay for Chie Mihara shoes, my other secret lust. I ask myself: do they pass the Life Test? Could I stand up in them and sing in the church choir for two hours? Could I keep smiling through a three-hour cocktail party? Could I get them on and off easily in an airport security line? Could I run from one terminal to another fast enough to make my connection?
Of course they're cute. Kinky, in a comfortable way. It might be that I'd want to spend time with them for years to come. Kind of like my man, come to think of it.