Manolo says, it is Tuesday and you are back at your desk, after what turned out to be the relatively sedated Halloween. Yes there were the usual parade of visitors, this year gravely disappointed that your man Gary, he of the elaborate annual Halloween displays, did not celebrate the occasion in his usual over-the-top style.

It was in May, when you first noticed that something was amiss, that Gary had not closed off the garage and converted it into his laboratory, the sort of Halloween DARPA, where he has traditionally begun to test the fanciful ideas for his annual extravaganza. (Who can forget the year when he built the full-sized pirate ship with cannons that fired candy?)

“Gary,” you asked one Saturday in early June, “why haven’t you begun the preparations for Halloween? Aren’t you doing it this year?”

“I thought I’d give it a break,” he answered somewhat morosely.

You did not say anything, you just dropped the matter. And why would you not? In the first place, Gary not doing Halloween would save you several thousand of the dollars in materials. And in the second place, you suspected that Gary was suffering from the mild case of PHSD, Post Halloween Stress Disorder, and needed time to recover from the traumatic events of last year.

In the effort to outdo himself, Gary had built the alien spaceship, from which were emerging the be-tentacled green invaders, the first of whom was busily stripping the flesh from the corpse, with one surprised skeleton already lying nearby (Bony Bob in the supporting role).

Everyone agreed it the greatest display yet, and the sound track, complete with theremin music (recorded by Gary in his makeshift home studio), was indeed most spooky. Unfortunately, Gary had failed to properly ground the lighting system which illuminated the interior of the flying saucer. You know this, because the fire marshal said it was probably the loose wire which had heated the styrofoam to the point of combustion.

By the time Gary was able to retrieve the extinguisher from the garage, the flames had leaped into the autumny leaves of that tall larch by the driveway, and from there, onto the fabric of the car cover Gary had placed over his most prized possession, the 1972 Camero Z28 in yellow and black. (The car had been parked beneath the larch tree because Gary needed room in the garage for his Halloween experiments.)

After the fire company went home around 1:30AM, Gary retreated into the Gary Cave and did not emerge until late afternoon the next day.

All he said was, “Let us never speak of this day again.”

Look, spooky suede Alexander McQueen shoes!


Too bad the Halloween has already past, because these designer shoes could become the basis of your own personal Halloween extravaganza!

Manolo says it is Tuesday and you are back at your desk doing that thing…you know, that thing.. with the computer and the performance memos and the shouting boss who is the female version of the Lou Grant, all gruff on the outside, and but filled with the marshmallow creme on the inside (which, frankly, does not sound all that appealing, but at this stage of the career, you will take what you can get.)

Back in the day, when you were leaving the college and entering the force of working, you were so excited. It was like the adventure, to be earning your first paycheck, and you were the spunky, brave, beautiful heroine, the working-girl Cinderella, part debutant, part warrior queen.

…and now, after 20 years of the hard labor, you would settle with being recognized as one of Cinderella’s least unattractive step-sisters, the slightly prettier and less mean Drizella.

“Cindy, why don’t you go to the ball in my place. Don’t worry, I can take care of those fireplace ashes for you.”

And for the majority of us, no longer the protagonists in our own stories, this is the best for which we can hope: to be the attendant lady, one that will do to swell the progress, start the scene or two, advise the princess.

Sigh…

Look Beautiful fairy tale shoes, the Glitter Pumps from Miu Miu!

Ayyyy! Perhaps the story is not yet written. Maybe this is just the lull between the acts, or the brief stutter step in the epitasis, and you are on the brink of the momentous change, and you will be forced to overcome impossible challenges and rise to your ultimate triumph!

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your desk, and already the Summer of 2011 is fading into the rearview mirror of your life, growing smaller with each passing second.

Of the course, given what the Summer of 2011 was like, this is not necessarily the bad thing.

Indeed, if you could, you would jam your foot down onto the accelerator of the life-mobile, spewing gravel and little chips of asphalt into the face of the Summer of 2011, as you sped away.

But you cannot.

The great tragedy is that life is not the car your can drive from place to place, stopping when the mood strikes you. It is more like the intercity Greyhound that occasionally conveys you through scenes of breath-taking beauty, but more often is stuck for long periods in industrial wastelands, or enormous stretches of poorly made tract homes.

But, you are obliged to do your best while on the trip, by making friends with the fellow passengers, and trying to keep the spirits up.

And, what better way to buoy one spirits than with beautiful shoes, such as these luxurious suede and fox platform peep-toe pumps, the Splash from the Christian Louboutin?

Manolo says, the Manolo, who has been dumped in the downs these past few weeks, has decided he must self-medicate, and what better way than with the invigorating shoes from the Maestro Manolo Blahnik?

For those suffering from the low energy, the Cerreto Buckle Snakeskin d’Orsay Pumps from the Maestro Manolo Blahnik is perhaps restorative of vigor….

And if, like the Manolo, you are experiencing the surfeit of black bile, which to the person of normally sanguine temperament is quite distressing, then perhaps the Arsenia Metallic Leather Peep-Toe Pumps will put your humours back into balance.

Simple but effective cures from that most honored of physicians, Manolo Blahnik.

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your desk, and ayyyyy! Look at all of the work that must be cleared away before you can go on the two week of the vacation.

Hurry! You must get to it before the big day arrives and you depart for two week of sun in the fun!

Of the course, you must also be certain to leave undone the few semi-important items which only you can do, so that your bosses and co-workers will realize that they cannot get along with out you. (Be sure also to hide at least one very important client file somewhere unlikely.) After all, the last thing you would want is for someone to realize the painful truth, that your position at the XYZ Corp could be filled by the well-trained orangutan.

But, do not worry. It is not your fault. Various studies over the last decade have proven that 87% of all private sector positions (and 98% of government jobs) could be done entirely by analog computers, greater apes and border collies.

“But, Manolo,” you are saying, “What about the robots?”

“Ha,” replies the Manolo, “what can the robot do that the Australian shepherd or the bonobo cannot?”

No, it is clear, the future belongs to the monkeys and the canids.

In the meantime, while you are waiting for our new animal overlords to take charge, here are the beautiful shoes…

Nicholas Kirkwood Platform Silk Peep-Toe Pumps.

Beautiful shoes, truly, they are what separate us from the beasts of the field!

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your desk, and today you are ready to go! You woke up early, the fire for success in your belly, rumbling like the spicy burrito of accomplishment to come, pushing you forward to success.

Coffee! Coffee! Shower! Coffee! Clothes! Coffee! Go!

Must get to office to do that thing that will get you that promotion that will result in worldly success!

“Get out of the way,” you shout to the cars that are impeding you on the turnpike, “I have places to go, dammit!”

You arrive fifteen minutes early to the office, the testament to your diligence and can-do-it attitude. You leap from the automobile and race through the lobby, past the Ed the Security Guard.

“You go, missy!” he says genially to your back as you hit the elevator at the run.

“No time to talk, Ed,” You shout over your shoulder.

Up to the 6th floor, into your seat, boot up the computer, ignore the emails, and buckle down for the meaningful session of work. Ten minutes later the boss arrives, he nods his head, clearly happy to see you there at your desk.

Mission accomplished!

And now, you can click over to the real internet, to enjoy the first day of the week as is customary, by looking at gossip sites and beautiful shoes.

Look! Miu Miu Patent Leather Platform Mary Jane Pumps, with the bow!

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

Dear Manolo,

I have a dilemma. On the first three weekends of June, I’m supposed to attend three separate weddings, which will mean at least two separate outfits, if not three. My problem is that I can only really afford one decent pair of shoes, hopefully priced below $200. Can you help me?

Chelsea

Manolo says, frankly, after the Giant, Royal, Big Deal, Fairy Tale Wedding of the Prince William the Balding and his not-royal bride, Kate Middleton the Skinny, who cares about the shoes anymore?

The shoes are the news of yesterday. Today, Manolo loves the hats!

Hats! Hats! Hats! In all their splendid multifarious fabulousity! Who can forget the sight of all those horsey upper-class English women wearing the most incredible creations on top of their pinched and sour faces?

Swooping birds of prey in teal, with feathers of gold! Mauve life rafts bedecked with the garden of flowers! Frank Gehry fascinators with compound curves and silver scales! Artful stacks of fluorescent forest twigs with multicolored wind chimes! Almost all courtesy of the The Mad Irish Hatter, Phillip Treacy, the sly genius who has convinced the entire generation of titled women that looking silly is chic.

Yes, the modern monarchy may be the sad and greatly diminished affair, most often seen at supermarket grand openings and the covers of the tabloids, but in the matter of hats, they still reign supreme.

Here are the beige platform pumps, the Dachen from Isola, that will, in the words of Larry the Guy of Cable, “get’er done.”

Manolo says, it is Monday and …

TAX DAY!!!!

TAX DAY!!!!

TAX DAY!!!!

TAX DAY!!!!

TAX DAY!!!!

Here is the Manolo’s best advice…put the thick envelope with the 1040 into the mail box, open the bottle of the mid-priced chardonnay, pour yourself the big glass, and stare at this for several minutes…

The Risp Knotted Peep-Toe Pumps from the Maestro Manolo Blahnik

Beautiful, elegant, cool, classical, and guaranteed to take some of the sting out of life’s indignities.

N.B. Our friend the Legatrix, who last time wrote about the ill-omened hairdos, is back with the post that the Manolo thinks is brilliant.

I love vintage clothing. The cut, elegance, and craftsmanship of clothing from the 1930s to the 1960s have always captivated me. Perhaps it’s because I can’t separate the fashions of those decades from the films. I’ve got my Bette Davis suits, my Barbara Stanwyck blouses, and my Jayne Mansfield sweaters. I wear my vintage pieces for work and play, mixing them up with current clothes to keep anything from looking costumey. I love the art of vintage clothing construction so much that I’ve even bought scraps of vintage dresses only to admire the exquisite handsewn beadwork left on pieces of shattered silk. But there’s one place I draw the line: vintage shoes. (Cue outrage and indignation from all the vintage fashionistas out there.)

Here’s the deal. Unless you’re a collector who hangs fancy shoes from your Christmas tree, don’t buy vintage shoes. No matter how curvaceous the vamp, well-turned the heel, or smooth the skin (yes, we’re still talking about shoes,) try to resist their siren song. I speak from experience. Over the decades, leather weakens, glue dries out, and stitching breaks. However accomplished your cobbler, he cannot restore such shoes to wearable condition. So when you consider buying a pair of vintage shoes, ask yourself, “Do I feel lucky?”

Right now I have two pairs of vintage shoes. I wear neither of them. Because for every pair of vintage shoes presently in my closet, three died painful, public, embarrassing deaths. There isn’t a place in New York City where I haven’t wiped out in a pair of gorgeous vintage heels. I went down in a blaze of pantyhose when my 1940s snakeskin ankle-straps disintegrated underfoot at Columbia University. I landed skirt-over-face on a midtown sidewalk when the heels of my 1950s cherry-red babydolls snapped clear off beneath me. And, apart from the concussion, I can’t remember what happened after a pair of 1930s golden sandals gave out in the East Village.

So rather than risk your hard-earned money on a pair of shoes that may leave you and your virtue(s) splayed out on the pavement for all to see, save your pennies for new shoes with a vintage vibe.

These crisp white lace-ups from Chloe remind me of the Katharine Hepburn’s sporty chic look.

Kate says, 'If you obey all the rules you miss all the fun.'

They’re reminiscent of the ghillies that were popular in the 1940s, but are miles away from the orthopedic ones your nana still wears.

And these deceptively simple Kate Spade pumps, with their almond-shaped toe and low, curved vamp, are reminiscent of Jean Harlow’s infamous “where’s my shoe?” scene in Red-Headed Woman.

Jean Harlow says, 'Do it again! I like it!'

The heel is narrower than you’d see on a shoe from the 1930s, but the sleek and subtle curves are emphatically art deco. They’d be as fitting at the office as they would out on date night.

And finally, there are these shoes from Salvatore Ferragamo. Every time I see them, they bring Sophia Loren to mind. Like her, they’re classic and restrained, yet unabashedly sexy.

Sofia tells Salvatore, 'Everything you see I owe to spaghetti.'

Manolo says, may the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields.

And may your St. Patrick’s Day be as fun and as happy-making as the these patent leather pumps from the Brian Atwood!

Manolo says, the Manolo’s shoe designer friend, Abel Muñoz has just sent the Manolo his look book for the coming season.

What the Manolo loves about these shoes is that they are so elegant and restrained. Here is the description for the new collection.

His handmade collections are influenced by time spent at a number of ateliers in Milan and the artisinal work of shoe designers in the 1930s and 1940s prior to the introduction of worldwide mass industrial production.

The current collection is inspired by the classic silver screen’s female stars.

These are very fun shoes with more than the little bit of style and class.

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your desk assiduously working your way through the giant stack of papers, when you notice that today is the last day of the February, 2011.

2011…

2011…

Ayyyyy! You are living in the future!

Remember way, way back before it was the year 2000, in the 1980s even, perhaps?

Back when you were still living in the 20th Century, when you kept thinking to yourself, “yes, things here are not that wonderful, what with the parachute pants and the big hair and the Vanilla Ice, but just wait until the 21st Century. We’ll have the flying cars and the magic diet pills that will keep us thin even as we enjoy our Tang and NASA food tubes.”

And now, here you are, it is the future and you still taking the bus to work.

Worse, the magic pills that would keep the bags of the saddles from settling upon your hips, have side effects such as hair loss and sleepless weeks. And as for the NASA space food, the less said about reconstituted meat made with the futuristic growth hormones, the better.

Take That, Gene Rodenberry!

Have you looked at your cell phone lately? It makes the Star Trek communicator look like the Buck Rogers, retro-future movie prop (which it sort of is). And, as for the functionality, the Captain Kirk was never able to view the humble shoe blog of the Manolo, or shop for the clothing on the galactic intertubes while attempting to bed the green-skinned space hotty.

So, there’s phoning technology, even if the bill that arrives every month must be paid in currency that is still earned by the sweat of your non-robotic brow.

What other benefits have the future brought you?

Well, the Manolo can tell you that the shoes have gotten much, much better. Indeed, one can say without the hesitation that we are living in the sort of Golden Age of Shoes. More designers, more variety, more and better shoes; truly, it is the most super fantastic time to be the lover of the shoes.

Look! Here is the Harris Platform Pump from Brian Atwood…

This is exactly the sort of shoe you imagined in the future: the super sexy Jane Jetson pump that would have all of the cosmonauts down at the Saturn Club doing that comic thing with the eyes bulging and the tongues hanging out.