Burberry Tonal Check Perspex Sandals…Um…Wha?

Burberry Tonal Check Perspex Platform Sandals   Manolo Likes!  Click!

Manolo says, behold! Beautiful and unusual platform sandals from Burberry in the handsome dark nickel color, but that name? What does it mean? Tonal…Check…Perspex?

It sounds less like something you would wear on your feets and more like the DARPA super secret squirrel project.

What the Manolo is…

Manolo says, one of the Manolo’s internet friends has the request of the Manolo.

Dear Manolo,
I am the Mary (well, not The Mary, but the Mary around here). I agree with you about Crocs, and you have done the Lord’s work there, and I appreciate your references to your affiliated blogs. I am a big fan of the Manolo.

What I miss are the Tuesday updates on what the Manolo reads, watches and hears. I have enjoyed many tips from these postings. I understand if it is too much work for the Manolo to be able to make these recommendations on a weekly basis, but I would appreciate semimonthly or even monthly reports.

Will you consider resuming them?

Your email friend,

Mary

Ayyyy! Such kind words for the humble shoeblogger. How can the Manolo possibly reject this request, not when it is so wonderfully asked, and certainly not when, within days of the Mary’s message, this letter arrived from another of the Manolo’s internet friends.

Hi Manolo,

It’s weird how I ended up reading your blog, think I was googling for a pair of Louboutins, but anyhow, I read a movie review you did where you mentioned the book The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker, I checked it out and it is a completely amazing book. Wanted to say thanks for alerting the public to a great piece of reading :)

Best,

Tiffany

The super fantastic Tiffany has makes reference to one of the Manolo’s Tuesday “What the Manolo is…” in which the Manolo discussed the movie Annie Hall.

And, now, in honor of Mary and Tiffany, the Manolo announces that it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

The Manolo makes no secret of his admiration for the thespianic abilites of Robert Downey, Jr, and in this new Sherlock Holmes movie the Manolo is happy to report that he has not been disappointed in the least. Robert Downey, Jr. is excellent as Sherlock Holmes, unexpectedly excellent, wonderfully excellent.

Likewise, this is the first movie in which Jude Law’s more meager talents have been perfectly exploited. (Jude Law as the lead actor? Do not want. Jude Law as the elevated supporting actor. Yes, please.) He is the fine Dr. Watson, and as good as he’s ever been.

“But, Manolo,” you are perhaps saying to yourself, “what about Guy Ritchie’s transformation of Sherlock Holmes from the gray cerebral being (a la Jeremy Brett) into the bareknuckled Mr. Action Man? Does this not bother you?”

To which the Manolo replies, “Not in the least.”

Indeed, not only was the Manolo thoroughly entertained by the new slam-bang version of Sherlock Holmes, moreover he considers this to be Guy Ritchie’s greatest movie ever, well-crafted and briskly paced, and completely devoid of any touch of Madonna.

What the Manolo Is…

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

Listening to…

Reading…

Listening to…

If you have not read this book, How I Became The Famous Novelist, you are missing out on the remarkably funny thing.

What the Manolo Is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

The Manolo has come to the conclusion that it is impossible to make the fully satisfying cinematic adaptation of the Jane Austen novel. Indeed, only the person who had never read the novel Persuasion could be content with the latest filmic version, staring the Sally Hawkins and Rupert Penry-Jones.

Yes, there were portions of the production that were amusing, but the final fifteen minutes, which showed the Anne Elliot racing about Bath like the Sarah-Connor-style action heroine, were especially absurd. Likewise, the Manolo was annoyed by the frustratingly slow kiss which sealed the relationship between Anne and Captain Wentworth.

This is not how people in love behave, not even those who are fearfully constrained by the formal customs of their age. The Manolo calls these sort of cinematic scenarios “phoney-baloney movie love,” because they are more about the filmmakers wrongheaded notions of how lovers should behave, and are not drawn from life.

Perhaps the problem for the Manolo is that the works of Jane Austen live fully in his mind in ways that cannot be improved upon by the movie adaptation. And while there have been valiant attempts at translation to the screen, ultimately, they have all fallen short.

What the Manolo Is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

One of the more surprising and pleasurable thing about living in Argentina is the incredible number movies that are shown on the television here in Buenos Aires, dozens each night spread over several different cable channels. Most of these films are the usual Hollywood movies, both recent and classic, shown most often in the original English with the subtitles (although movies dubbed into Argentine Spanish are common enough).

However, also spread among the products of Hollywood are the goodly number of French, German, Japanese, Chinese, and Italian films, and occasionally, you will see things that are totally unexpected, such as movies from Usbekistan or Hungary (when was the last time you thought of the words “Hungary” and “movies” without also thinking “Gabor”?) shown in their original langues with the Spanish subtitles.

In all, it is most amusing.

What the Manolo Is…

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

Watching…

Reading…

Listening to…

Eating…

The Manolo is now completely smitten with the Argentine pop genius that is Hilda Lizarazu. She has that wonderful quality of defiant vulnerability and intelligence that the Manolo associates with the best of Chrissie Hynde. And her voice, it is so beguiling.

But, judge for yourself…

What the Manolo Is…

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

Reading…

Listening to…

Watching…

The Manolo has been in Buenos Aires for the little bit less than one week, and already he is in love with this place. It is spring here, and the trees on the street outside of the Manolo’s apartment are putting out the leaves. It is perfectly pleasant.

As for the shoes, the Manolo is most happy to report that the Crocs are nowhere to be found! Finally, the Manolo has escaped this pestilence!

In the Manolo’s upper middle class neighborhood, the ladies favor the practical, comfortable shoes, which given the sometimes lamentable condition of the sidewalks, is forgivable. For the young girls, the tall flat boots are seen everywhere. While, it is still cool enough that the sandals have not yet appeared.

What the Manolo is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

The Manolo finally managed to see the Sex and the City movie.

His reaction: In the word, meh.

Although supposedly set in the present day, the movie seemed dated, as if it were the daguerreotype from the previous millennium, quaintly hinting at the outdated customs and obsolete mores of the distant past.

On the one of the hands, Carrie and her pals were sweeter and more vulnerable, more desperately romantic, than we have ever before seen them (although less funny). They were also more likable than ever, except for Cynthia Nixon, who should be dropped down the long mine shaft and left there until she realizes how truly blessed her cinematic life (with its great job, wonderful child, and good-looking if drippy man) is.

The girls were also, despite the smutty talk and Kim Cantrell’s absurdly sexualized character, entirely monogamous in their relationships, which was something of the relief to the old man Manolo, who believes that intense monogamous love between two peoples is perhaps the greatest of the Almighty’s gifts.

Yet, while there were good things, on the other of the hands, the movie dragged on interminably, piling up senseless subplots and meaningless details. Yawn.

Worse, the movie’s attempts at bringing the romantic longings of the characters (and the audience) to fruition were misguided and inadequate. Shaped as the semi-conventional romantic comedy, Sex and the City contained little that could be considered romantic.

Take for the example, Mr. Big, held up by the movie as the choicest piece of man meat to ever tread the earth, with his dyed hair, droopy jowls, shaped eyebrows, and his indecisive, dreary, somnambulantly sulky ways. At least he was rich, moderately available, tall, and rich (did the Manolo mention that he was rich? It was very important in this movie, the richiosity of Mr. Big, because it means he was able to buy Park Avenue apartments and fill their commodious closets with swag.)

Query: What is less romantic than the vacillating, indecisive, weakly lover?

Answer: The movie that confuses wealth for romantic desirability.

Oh, how the Manolo wishes he could have swapped Chris Noth for Tom Selleck!

Tom Selleck: charming, virile, decisive, funny, cheerful, and at 63, still the hunkiest man in Hollywood!

Chris Noth in Sex and the City: drippy!

But, you must play the hand you were dealt, and Mr. Big is apparently the only man who would have Carrie Bradshaw, looking, as she does, ever more like Miss Havisham…

Ayyyyy!

I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes. I saw that the dress had been put upon the rounded figure of a young woman, and that the figure upon which it now hung loose, had shrunk to skin and bone. Once, I had been taken to see some ghastly waxwork at the Fair, representing I know not what impossible personage lying in state. Once, I had been taken to one of our old marsh churches to see a skeleton in the ashes of a rich dress, that had been dug out of a vault under the church pavement. Now waxwork and skeleton seemed to have dark eyes that moved and looked at me. I should have cried out, if I could.

~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.

And frankly this is another of the problems of the movie. attempting to sell us lean mutton as plump lamb.

This is not to say that romantic comedies that feature middle aged persons cannot be good, and satisfying, and funny, only that Carrie wanted to play the part of the virginal ingenue, rather than the mature woman with the frightening romantic history. The potential for humor and romanticism was undermined by this insistence.

But, the Manolo is confident that the actor of Tom Selleck’s caliber could have convinced even the most skeptical, disbelieving audience that Sarah Jessica Parker is the hotty, could have convinced us that she is the suitable lead for the romantic comedy.

Ultimately, for the Manolo, the only romantic scene in the entire movie was the wedding at the courthouse, with Carrie in the demure suit, and Mr. Big finally wakened from his movie-long slumber. But, if Sex and the City were truly romantic, that would have happened in the first act of the fifteen minute long, single reel film, which would be followed by the feature length Tom and Jerry cartoon.

What the Manolo is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

The Manolo has this past week rediscovered and become completely absorbed and enthralled with the music of Tom Waits. Perhaps it is because the Manolo was too young the first time around to fully appreciate it, but he has found unexpected depth and poignancy in these songs.

What the Manolo Is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to..

Until this past weekend, when the Manolo saw the new Tropic Thunder movie, The Manolo had nearly given up on Ben Stiller. His act, once so sharp and funny, had grown stale and repetitive, and almost unbearably lazy with throw away movies such as Dodgeball.

But, with this new movie he has redeemed himself, for it is one of the funniest and sharpest movies the Manolo has seen in many months, indeed, it is the work of near genius.

Of the course, Tropic Thuner is not the movie for the faint of heart, but those who can tolerate cruel and intensely sardonic humor will be well rewarded. Both Ben Stiller and Jack Black are exceedingly good, and Robert Downey, Jr. gives what is undoubtedly one of the most confoundingly brilliant and funny performances the Manolo has ever seen. And even with that, the entire movie is stolen by (of all peoples) Tom Cruise(!), who gives what is the most exceptional and unhinged performance of his career, one that has honestly caused the Manolo to reassess his opinion of him.

So, if you are the person who loves the comedic acting, you must go see this movie forthwith.

What the Manolo Is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

The workings of the human mind are truly the mystery, no?

For several days now two songs have been playing continuously–round, round, baby, right round–in the Manolo’s mind. The first is the marvelously hummable “The Brotherhood of Man,” from the the quintessential 1960’s workplace musical comedy, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.

The second is, inexplicably, the opening few chords from Dolly Parton’s “Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like That.“.

The mysterious brain part is that, as far as the Manolo knows, he has not heard either of these songs in the past few weeks, and yet there they are, on the continual reply loop in his head. And so, the Manolo has decided that the best therapy is to see the movie and listen to the Dolly, not exactly the onerous tasks.

P.S. When the Manolo hears “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That,” in his head, these are NOT the mental images that accompany it…

What the Manolo Is…

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

Reading…

Watching…

Listening to…

The Manolo can watch Fellini’s Roma again and again, if only to see this amazingly surreal and amusing scene again and again…