Manolo says, it is Tuesday and the Manolo is back at his desk doing that thing that he does to amuse his long-suffering internet friends.

Yes, it is true, the Manolo has been absent these past few weeks. But, in his favor, he has the valid excuse, with which he will not tire you (although it involves travel, illness, and the death of the close relative), in the stead, the Manolo to say the few words about the new year.

Ayyyy! It is already 2012! You will need shoes that will look good during the Mayan calendar stone apocalypse, in which case allow the Manolo to recommend…

Gael Strappy Sandals from the Jimmy Choo.

It is Tuesday, and you are back at your place of employment, being gainfully employed, and for that you are thankful.

Thankful….ayyy! Look at the calendar! It is already the second week of November!

There is so much to do in the next two weeks. First you will have to order your free-range, humanely-dispatched, heirloom turkey from the butchers shop, you know, the shop with the hipster butchers who have the tattoos and the ironic handlebar mustaches.

Yes, these young butchers, who ride home each night on their fixed-gear bicycles, are generally well-intentioned, knowledgeable about the meats, and friendly, but still, you miss Stan, the old Polish butcher with the big belly and the twinkling eyes.

Things have not been the same since Stan sold out to these jackanapes and retired. Stan always had time for to flirt with the old ladies, and tell the little jokes, or to give you some beef neck bones for the dog. And the fresh kielbasa he made every Tuesday in the back of the shop was sublime.

These new people, they stock fancy Italian sausages, which they refer to by the pretentious term salume. But… the meat is still good, if more expensive, and you’ve developed the appreciation for the heritage breed animals.

So, you get out the phone and dial up shop to place your order, 15 pounds should be big enough, yes?

“Stanislaw’s Meats,” says the familiar voice on the other end.

“Stan? Stan is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Mrs. G.”

“I thought you retired, Stan.”

“Nah. I got bored sitting around the house. The missus yelling at me all the time. So, I come back to work.”

“Didn’t you sell the shop?”

“I did. I’m just here on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, helping out. These boys, they’re good butchers, Mrs. G., but they don’t know the first thing about sausage, so I’m making some kielbasa today.”

Ayyyy!

Let us give thanks for the small but vital pleasures of life, for good food and good people.

Speaking of the sublime things for which we should give thanks, shoes!

Such as these Bette Suede and Mesh Slingback Platform Sandals from Gucci. And look, they are also available in the black, for evening wear.

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

Dear Manolo,

I would be happy to wear cruelty-free shoes when possible, but I can’t find many non-ugly ones except for my Converse Chuck Taylors. I love my Chucks, but their usage is limited. I would also like to find out if any of the newer “vegan leathers” can be used to create a super-fantastic shoe. In my experience, fake leather is sweaty plastic ick that cracks and peels. I know about Stella McCartney’s vegan shoes, but they’re way out of my price range. Can you help out a shoe-lover who would like to transition to a leather-free wardrobe where possible?

Jill

Manolo says the short answer is no, the Manolo is of little or no help when it comes to finding the good-looking vegan shoes.

And, the long answer, it is also no, or perhaps nooooooooo.

Finding the vegan shoes that are both stylish and not made from the recycled plastic waste is one of the most impossible of tasks.

It is because, from the beginning of time, leather has always been the material most perfectly suited for the shoes. It is inexpensive,
handsome, pliable, durable, moderately weatherproof, and capable of being worked into beautiful and practical forms.

But, the Manolo understands that there are those who object to the manner in which the leather is obtained, and so here is the Key West, the good-looking sandal from the vegan shoe specialist olsenHaus, the shoes which may be what you are looking for.

Manolo says, it is Monday and is it just the Manolo, or has the entire world gone cuckoo nuttybar crazy?

Look! Beautiful and interesting shoes…

These strappy denim wedge sandals from the Alexandre Birman are the sort of shoe that you would perhaps at first scorn, thinking to yourself, “Denim? Where would I wear these,”

Only months later, while sitting at your desk daydreaming about things more personally consequential than your job, you would realize that they were the most popular shoes in your closet, capable of being worn more things than you could ever have imagined.

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back doing that thing…you know…that thing with the work. And here it is the first of August, and you have officially entered the doggish days of summer, when the oppressive heat and the vacations of the co-workers mean that everything is extra quiet.

You need to enliven your afternoon with some tasty fashion, such a these Metallic and Suede Sandals from the Jerome Rousseau

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

Dear Manolo,

I need help with a major wardrobe decision. Over the past year, I’ve lost nearly 80 pounds, and have finally reached my goal weight of 135. Naturally, I need an entirely new set of clothes. The weirdest thing, however, is that my feet have also shrunk, between a half and a full shoe size. They’ve even gotten narrower! So I need new shoes. I want something sexy and strappy and suitable for dancing the night away. Please help.

Lisa

Manolo says, the Manolo’s friend Lisa is to be congratulated on her accomplishment, as losing the unnecessary weight is truly one of the hardest things in the world to do.

Indeed, the Manolo, himself, has long struggled with his own poor genetics and powerful appetites. He was not blessed with the long, thin, elegant silhouette which has been the fashion in the West since the medieval times. Nor is the Manolo one of those people who can subsist on barley water and bran rusks, preferring in the stead, savory roasts and vegetables in the cream sauces.

And thus, if asked to describe his own current figure, the Manolo would answer, “somewhat thickish around the middle” (although the judges would also have accepted “Falstaffian”).

Sigh.

Thank goodness for the custom tailoring and the male foundation garments!

Look! Here is the Lightning from the Stuart Weitzman, the sexy sandal with which to dance away the night.

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your desk slaving away for man, the weekend the fast fading memory.

Sadly, most of these weekends are not even worth remembering, given over as they are to the demands of the lawn care, and the house care, and the car care, and the laundry care, and all of the niggling little cares that weigh down the suburban homeowner.

It was not always thus. Once, when you and Gary were first married, you had the romantic dreams of walk-up flats in Paris and long trips to the Greek isles, where you would squeeze the juice out of life together.

Now, on the Saturdays, it is up early and off to the garden store, where you spend several hours shopping for the new edge-trimmers, and the pesticides, and the black spot resistant roses, which is sad because neither of you really enjoy the gardening.

Then, as you are heading out, you notice that Gary has gotten busy loading hundred-pound bags of colored stone (mostly reds and blues) onto your shopping cart.

“What are you doing,” you ask.

“Xeriscape!” shouts Gary, “We need to xeriscape the whole damn thing. Front yard, back yard, side yards. Hell, xeriscape the living room.”

“What are you talking about?’

“Low-maintenance, low-water landscaping. Xeriscaping. Saw it is Sunset while I was waiting at the oil change place. Tear up the whole yard, lay down colored stone and plant cactuses. Prickly pears, and barrel cactuses, and maybe some giant saguaro.”

“Gary, honey,” when he gets like this you have to gently talk him down, “we live in Ohio.”

It is moments like this that make you realize that shoes are nature’s own Prozac.

Look, what could be more soothing and satisfying than strappy suede sandals from the Maestro Manolo Blahnik?

You know, maybe some colored rocks in the side yard aren’t such the bad idea.

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

Dear Manolo,

It’s wicked hot outside. Can you recommend some inexpensive sandals that will keep me both cool and looking great until fall arrives?

Mary

Manolo says, ayyy! It is the Great Deadly Unprecedented Heat Wave of 2011! Or so the peoples are screaming at you from every broadcast media outlet.

Indeed, when you woke up this morning, that normally avuncular fellow who does the weather on “Wake Up, D.C.!” was weeping hysterically that his patented “RealFeeling Heat Index” (the secret combination of heat, humidity, dew point, and temperature readings taken from the surface of the sun) would soar to the unheard of temperature of 317 degrees in the shade, which will shortly not exist because all of the trees in your neighborhood will “spontaneously burst into flames by noon”.

And yet, the few minutes later, while you are enjoying the soft-boiled egg, you flip to the more level-headed weather report in the Post, where you find that the actual temperature for the day will be 103 degrees Fahrenheit.

Yes, it will be hot and nasty and humid and terribly unpleasant, but then what did you expect? This is the Washington, D.C. in the summer. When has it not always been thus?

Take the advice of the Manolo: turn the air conditioner up and the television off. Pour yourself the big glass of iced tea and settle into your reading chair for the long afternoon of pirate-themed romance novels.

Here is the Alexa from Lauren by Ralph Lauren. The moderately priced sandal with the classic good looks that will keep you both cool and looking cool until at least October.

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

Dear Manolo,

In August, I have some free time before I begin graduate school. A friend has invited me to spend part of it at her family vacation home on Martha’s Vineyard. We’ll mostly be at the beach, but I’ll still need some sandals to glam it up a bit for when we go out at night. What do you suggest?

Beth

Manolo says, from the Vineyard of Martha straight into the graduate school? It is like going from the disco directly into the nunnery, only with out the spiritual uplifting.

One minute you are partying down with the beautiful rich peoples, and the next you are the lowly drudge responsible for teaching Introduction to Composition 101 to semi-literate techno-primitives, whose only previous experience with writing has been thumbing out cryptic phrases such as “were u @, bro?”

On the first day, you will stand at the front of your class, filled with enthusiasm, determined to share the mysteries of the five-paragraph essay. By the end of the second week, you will settle for having them consistently indent new paragraphs.

This is to say nothing of the various travails of the graduate student, many of which involve 4 AM trips to the all night copy shop and the ramen noodles, lots of ramen noodles.

By Thanksgiving, you will look back on your brief stay on the Vineyard as being the Golden Age of Innocence, when you could wear sandals such as these, the Pansy from Yellow Box, without getting the dirty looks from the members of the Marxist Ladies Auxiliary Discussion Group.

Manolo says, the Manolo is greatly amused by the visual wit of this Christian Louboutin sandal…très amusant, no?

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

Dear Manolo,

I love most of your shoe recommendations, unfortunately, I can’t afford many of them, as I’m just a poor office drone. Can you suggest some inexpensive flat sandals I could wear on the weekends this summer?

Patricia

Manolo says, as is usually his custom, the Manolo recommends that the poor girls save their monies and purchase the best quality of super fantastic feetwear that they can afford, for such investments are repaid many times over in comfort, beauty and the satisfaction of wearing.

But, the Manolo also sympathizes with the poor working girls, who must work hard to pay the rent on the tiny, ninth-floor-walk-up, studio apartment in the grungy bohemian part of town, where all of the boys wear the too-skinny-jeans and ride the fixed-gear bicycles.

Indeed, the Manolo, himself, knows what it is like to be poor, so poor that you must fashion your own super fantastic flat sandals out of the Pabst Blue Ribbon cans and pieces of oversized hipster eyeglasses you have found in the dumpster behind that ironically iconic (iconically ironic?) dive bar.

And so the Manolo would recommend to you the Gigi from the Sam Edelman as being the simple but good-looking, moderately priced flat sandal for your summer wearing needs. It is available in fifteen different colors and materials, from “spicy orange” to “silver boa”, although the Manolo is partial to the “natural cork” finish. For the less adventurous, “saddle and black” would be the good choice.

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

Dear Manolo,

At the end of July I’m going to a big deal wedding in Atlanta. I’ve already picked out my dress, a muted floral with a generally light peach tone, but now I need a pair of shoes to go with. What do you suggest?

Moncia

Manolo says, ayyyy! Hotlanta in July! Fiddle-dee-dee and thank goodness for the invention of the air conditioning!

And now the Manolo must admit that despite his many visits to the Atlanta he does not fully understand this city. On the one of the hands, Atlanta seems as Southern as Southern can be, at every turn celebrating it’s historic Southern heritage with as much enthusiasm as any place in America. Indeed, it is difficult to escape from the club of Gone-With-the Wind Southerness with which the city attempts to beat the unsuspecting visitor over the head.

And yet, on the other of the hands, whenever the Manolo visits Atlanta he seems to encounter only the transplanted Yankees and their progeny.

“We moved here from Boston in ’92, y’all” said the lady in Lennox Square Mall, “My brotha came down in ’94.”

And yet, on the third of the hands, Atlanta is indisputably the world-class city of entertainment and business, the home of Coca-Cola, CNN, and Elton John.

It is all so confusing.

Look! Here is the Whirl from the Stuart Weitzman, the strappy sandal in the oyster color that will allow your dress to shine in the Hotlanta sun.