Manolo says, here is the Manolo’s latest column for the Express of the Washington Post.
I’ve finally been promoted to detective after almost a decade as a patrol officer and I need some shoes. While I’m obviously happy to be rid of those clunky, black cop shoes, I’m stumped as to what would look good with the stylish pantsuits I would like to wear. The regulations specify “professional, closed-toe shoes, with heels no greater than two inches high.” Please help.
Manolo says, ayyyy! You will be like Angie Dickinson, going undercover in the hot pants and go-go boots to bust the ring of white slavers!
Or, perhaps not. The new version of the police lady life, as shown on the network television, seems to involve less of the fist fighting, and more of the science. One minute, you are flirting shamelessly with the very witty Simon Baker, and the next you are poking the decomposing corpse with the spoon.
Or perhaps not. From what the Manolo has heard, the actuality of being the copwoman in the real world is more mundane, involving overbearing bureaucracy, bad coffee at strange hours, and close contact with reprehensible peoples who do not look like this week’s celebrity guest villain.
Still, despite the fact that your boss looks more like the Ernest Borgnine than the Mark Harmon, there must be great satisfaction in knowing that you are performing the necessary and important job for society, protecting the weak and unwary from harm.
Here is the Kaplan Pump from the Elie Tahari, the sharp looking business shoe that will keep the evil-doers quaking in their much less attractive boots.