Manolo’s Shoe Blog

Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…

Watching…

Listening to…

Reading…

This is the week of Meh. The book, Then We Came to the End. Meh. Yes, it is written entirely in the first person plural, but that does not make up for its meh-ness. It is too contrived by half, and too unfunny by half.

The movie Coco Before Chanel. Meh. Yes, it is all about Coco Chanel, which should furnish the screenwriters with tons of salacious early-20th century fodder. But, instead of the fabulous soap opera, it is turned into the stately costume pageant with the luminous Audrey Tatou. This is the subject which requires the actress who is more earthy and more crazy. And thus in this incarnation it is merely meh.

Thank goodness for Beverly Sills in the Tales of Hoffman.

Manolo says, it is Monday and the Manolo feels like death on the small piece of toast. Is this the place where the antibiotics finally kick in?

However, do not let the Manolo’s hacking, chest cold dissuade you from enjoying the full range of shoe-based entertainment, indeed, even from his sickbed the Manolo does not stop dreaming about beautiful shoes, does not stop looking at pictures of the beautiful shoes.

For the example, the Nita leather sandals from the Vera Wang Lavender Label

This is the sweet little summery shoe that will make you think of better weather and wonderful things.

Manolo says, the website Collector’s Weekly has the interview with the super fantastic John Walford, author of the book The Seductive Shoe and shoe collector extraordinaire. Here is the very tasty excerpt.

Collectors Weekly: What were women wearing at the beginning of the 20th century?

Walford: This was just around the period when hemlines were beginning to creep up. Interestingly, shoes were almost a reaction to the fashions of the time. A lot of the Edwardian turn-of-the-century fashions were dripping in lace and making the most of the feminine figure, with padded buttocks, a padded bosom, and a tight waist. The look was ultra feminine. In contrast, shoes were often very masculine—little, tight Oxford shoes with low heels, very suffragette in comparison to the elaborate femininity of the costume itself. Even in eveningwear or with very fancy dresses, the footwear was still quite practical and masculine.

All that changed in the 1910s with the rise of the hem. There was the introduction of straps and color in womens footwear. Of course the leg was still not supposed to be seen in its naked form, so stockings were opaque. But the shoes themselves brought attention to the leg and the foot.

Shoe design took off in the 1920s and ’30s when bare legs and translucent stockings became acceptable. Suddenly shoes were brightly colored and highly decorated. French shoe designer André Perugia got his start in the 1920s, doing fantastical designs and colors and patterns for Paul Poiret. Roger Vivier designed shoes for Elsa Schiaparelli in the 1930s. This is when shoe design as we know it really began.

And now you must go read the whole thing, as it is remarkably informative and lengthy.

Manolo says, here are the few links which may perhaps amuse…

“Fashion bloggers have also brought a new type of voice to the industry. This voice is usually free of confines that govern print and magazines, giving rise to many niches within fashion blogging that readers can find common interest with the blogger.”

The Manolo needs to learn Korean

Pouty, cartoonish and oddly androgynous: the cosmetic surgery aesthetic…(Probably NSFW)

Manolo says, here is the Manolo’s latest column for the Express of the Washington Post.

Dear Manolo,

I’m about to graduate with a masters degree in landscape architecture, and will shortly be going out to seek my fortune. To this point, I’ve not thought much about footwear, content to wear my wellies in almost all situations (I did put on real shoes for my sister’s wedding). Now, however, as I begin to think about job interviews I become somewhat nervous. What do you recommend to convey the exact right combination of professional seriousness, outdoorsy intellectualism, and artistic competency?

Jane

Manolo says, to the uninitiated, the landscape architects are merely glorified gardeners, but to those who know about such things, landscape architects are members of the ancient and useful fraternity, stretching back to God himself, who in one of his first recorded acts redirected the major water feature to produce the usable spot of dry land, where he subsequently planted the garden.

Of the course, less august landscape architects have more mundane concerns, such as how to convey the proper image through personal dress and style.

Like the traditional architect, the landscape architect must appear both professional and artistic, but with the additional burden of having to appear sufficiently in touch with nature, without resorting to bib overall and John Deere gimme caps.

The Manolo suggest expensive but comfortable, tailored suiting made from natural fibers in woodland browns and greens. Think Jedi Knights meet Robin Hood meets Prada.

Look! Here is Fanny from Donald J. Pliner, the mid-heel wedge with the rich walnut-colored leather that would look good indoors or out.

Manolo says, and now to make up for the Manolo’s absence, he gives you the incomparable Wilbur Sargunaraj, destined to be perhaps the greatest superstar ever produced by the internets.

Manolo says, apologies from the Manolo for abandoning you today. The Manolo has been under the weather with the hacking chest cold, and he spent much of the day in bed.

Manolo asked, whose shoes?

Manolo answers, it is the Catherine Zeta-Jones!

Congratulations to the Manolo’s internet friend, the exceptionally perceptive Spritle, who was the first to correctly identify this golf-loving person of note.

Manolo sings,
Louie Louie, oh baby, me gotta go!

A fine little shoe, she waits for me.
Me catch the ship across the sea.
Me sailed the ship all alone.
Me never think he’ll make it home.

Louie Louie, oh no, me gotta go, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, baby.
Louie Louie, oh baby, me gotta go.