Manolo says, last year, our friends at the Collectors Weekly ran the most fascinating interview with the Elizabeth Semmelhack, author of the book The Heights of Fashion and the senior curator at the Bata Shoe Museum, about the high heels.

This time, the Elizabeth Semmelhack is interviewed about the history and meaning of the flip-flops. Here is the excerpt.

Collectors Weekly: When did it become more acceptable to wear flip-flops outside of the home or during the week?

Semmelhack: Sigerson Morrison made expensive heeled flip-flops at the end of the ’90s. When they made it, it created a buzz because they were also charging quite a bit for those flip-flops. They were not your average $10 flip-flop. I think they cost more than a hundred bucks when they were first offered.

Sigerson Morrison Kitten Heel Thong

The acceptability of the flip-flop is related to the hypersexualization of women’s dress. That’s why my research has been focused on the high heel. The introduction of the sandal—not the flip-flop but the toe-exposing sandal—in the 1930s, was part of a greater trend towards the “nudification,” for lack of a better term, of the female body. I feel that there has been a marked progression toward increased exposure of the female body.

What I find intriguing now is that men have begun to follow suit—perhaps not the best term here. Men are now falling in line with this increased exposure, and it could be argued this increased exposure is starting at their feet. With that increased exposure is concern about male pedicures and all kinds of grooming of the male body. I do see this as part of this larger continuum toward hypersexualization in dress. But if this exposure of the body is related to hyersexualization, I think the question—are flip-flops sexy—also needs to be asked, and I think the answer is no.

Consider the Sigerson Morrison high-heeled flip-flop. At the end of the ’90s, we certainly saw a lot of high-heeled sandal-like evening shoes for women that exuded erotic appeal.

19th Century Japanese Zori

And yet, somehow, that exact same structure, the heeled flip-flop structure wrought in inexpensive plastic, wasn’t. I think that the materials used to make flip-flops, their garish colors and their consistent association with play, has kept the flip-flop from really becoming sexy. On the cover of “Playboy,” you will see women in high heeled thronged sandals, but you don’t see them wearing a pair of flip-flops.

The “nudification” of the female body! This is why the Elizabeth Semmelhack has become one of the Manolo’s favorite fashion intellectuals.

Of the course, she is exactly right. For the past century, the general trend has been the freeing of the female form; bustles, corsets, girdles, and now the panty hose, all gone the way of the dodo bird.

Once the peep-toe shoes were too sexy for the work place, and now, thanks to the modern nudification project, everyone is vajazzaling.

But you must go read the whole thing for it is very interesting.

Manolo says, and now the 11th episode of the FN Shoe Star is available on the line for your viewing pleasure.

In this episode, as the Manolo had predicted, the Hyojin was shown the door and given the rocker-shoe boot.

However, it was not the Manolo’s choice, Rachel, who was declared the winner, but Matthew. He was chosen because the judges believed he had accomplished the impossible goal of making the toner-shoe that could potentially trick some unlucky man into purchasing it.

Other than the predicted loser and the unpredicted winner, there is not much else to report, except that the celebrity judge, the fabulously successful Tom’s Shoe Guy, Blake Mycoskie, knows next to nothing about the shoes.

He does not know the shoes, but what the Blake Mycoskie does know is the marketing to the young peoples in the way that makes them feel good about paying wildly inflated prices for the cheap Argentine peasant shoes.

The same Tom’s alpargatas that sell for $44 in America, can be purchased in Buenos Aires for less than $6, retail..

Blake Mycoskie, Capitalist, Philanthropist, Dude

And, yes, the Manolo knows that your first-world guilt is assuaged by knowing that the adorably hunky Blake is helping the poor children by giving them the one pair for every pair you buy (while pocketing the remaining $30, minus the expenses).

Such beneficence!

Would it not be better, asks the Manolo, to buy the mostly identical shoes which are $30 cheaper and give the difference to the charity of your choice? There are many peoples who are much more efficient at delivering the help to those who need it than the dudely self-promoter with the nice smile and the big mark up.

But, that is just the crazy thought from the Manolo, who likes to keep his conspicuous consumption separate from his private charity giving.

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back in your office thinking about life, changing careers, and Prufrock.

I have known them all already, known them all:
The commuter’s evenings, mornings, afternoons.
My car, coffee cups throughout are strewn
Papers ones from the Starbucks by the mall.
Now, beneath the dash there is no room
So, I should get a broom.

And I have known the mornings steady, known them all:
Mornings that break early, bright and fair.
[But, in the afternoon, clogged with smoggy air!]
Is it the floorboard mess
That makes me so digress?
Mornings that lie along the road, or languish while the traffic crawls.
And should I send my resumé?
And what should my cover letter say?

Shall I say, I have gone back to school for my poetry MFA?
And watched the student loans defaulting,
With lonely writers in shirt-sleeves, working as barristas?…

I should never have been an actuary,
Scuttling across the spreadsheets of silent seas.

“I am Yves Saint Laurent, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”

N.B. The Manolo’s friend Sarah (who has the new blog!) is back with yet another literary shoe moment which will edify and amuse.

The first shoes I remember wearing were Buster Browns. Every fall my mom would buy a brown pair for my brother, a red pair for my sister, and a blue pair for me. They looked, more or less, like this:

(It was the early 70s. Toddler-aged boys could wear this kind of thing their fathers worrying about some bizarre danger to their toddler-aged machismo. Darth Maul sneakers hadn’t been invented yet. Darth Maul hadn’t been invented yet. STAR WARS hadn’t been invented yet. I digress.)

For very special occasions, like church and birthday parties, my sister and I had patent leather mary-janes, like these.

My Special Shoes

They had soles so slick that Mom had to put strips of electrical tape on the bottom to keep us from wiping out on our way into the Sunday school room. To keep them shiny and prevent them from cracking, we rubbed them with a thin coat of Vaseline every now and again.

You’ll note that the striking thing about these shoes is their complete and utter tediousness. I suppose they’re classically good-looking, but they did nothing to set my poetic little heart on fire with a deep and abiding passion for the cobbler’s art.

No. For that awakening it was necessary, as it always has been, for me to turn to the revelations contained in a good book.

The book, in this case, was Louisa May Alcott’s An Old Fashioned Girl. (I bet at least one of you is already nodding and smiling. I can’t be the only one.) And the scene is this one:

“There’s one thing you must have, and that is, bronze boots,” said Fan, impressively.

“Why must I, when I’ve got enough without?”

“Because it’s the fashion to have them, and you can’t be finished off properly without. I’m going to get a pair, and so must you.”

“Don’t they cost a great deal?”

“Eight or nine dollars, I believe. I have mine charged; but it don’t matter if you haven’t got the money. I can lend you some.”

“I’ve got ten dollars to do what I like with; but it’s meant to get some presents for the children.” And Polly took out her purse in an undecided way.

“You can make presents easy enough. Grandma knows all sorts of nice contrivances. They’ll do just as well; and then you can get your boots.”

“Well; I’ll look at them,” said Polly, following Fanny into the store, feeling rather rich and important to be shopping in this elegant manner.

“Aren’t they lovely? Your foot is perfectly divine in that boot, Polly. Get them for my party; you’ll dance like a fairy,” whispered Fan.

Polly surveyed the dainty, shining boot with the scalloped top, the jaunty heel, and the delicate toe, thought her foot did look very well in it, and after a little pause, said she would have them.

And the picture. Oh my dears, the picture! (Yes, I still have my childhood copy of this novel. And yes, I knew exactly where it was. And yes, I remembered the picture in every tiny detail. It’s my Proustian madeleine, all right?)

Look at those shoes! They beat Buster Browns and mary-janes without even trying. That scalloped top! The curved heel! The instant sophistication! Not to mention the enticing, and to my childhood mind, utterly mysterious descriptor of them as “bronze.” Were they just bronze in color? Were they shiny and metallic like Mom’s fancy dress up sandals? Did they have metal tips on the toes like my tap shoes? What could bronze boots possibly be—beyond beautiful, unattainable, and forbidden?

My desire knew no bounds. It still doesn’t. Looking at that picture again…who wouldn’t want those shoes?

I should, perhaps, be more cautious in my lust. Because there is something about that scene I had forgotten. Because (since An Old-Fashioned Girl is that particular kind of nineteenth-century fiction for girls that, as Alcott put it, “is not intended as a perfect model, but as a possible improvement upon the Girl of the Period”) our Polly learns a sorrowful lesson after buying her boots.

It was all very delightful till she got home, and was alone; then, on looking into her purse, she saw one dollar and the list of things she meant to get for mother and the children. How mean the dollar looked all alone! and how long the list grew when there was nothing to buy the articles.

“I can’t make skates for Ned, nor a desk for Will; and those are what they have set their hearts upon. Father’s book and mother’s collar are impossible now; and I’m a selfish thing to go and spend all my money for myself. How could I do it?” And Polly eyed the new boots reproachfully, as they stood in the first position as if ready for the party. “They are lovely; but I don’t believe they will feel good, for I shall be thinking about my lost presents all the time,” sighed Polly, pushing the enticing boots out of sight.

Bronze boots were clearly going to lead me immediately down the path of temptation, sin, and financial irresponsibility.

I was doomed.

Happily, I am all but impervious to moral instruction, as my detailed recollection of the boots and complete failure to recall their intended lesson clearly indicates. To this day, I am on the alert for bronze boots, in the hopes of dancing like a fairy and looking perfectly divine.

And I swear I shall keep buying more shoes until I find them.

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

Dear Manolo,

I can’t believe it’s already April and things here in the District of Columbia are blooming. It seems like just the other week that we were buried under yet another snowpocalypse. Can you recommend some fun, inexpensive sandals to help me welcome this new season?

Erica

Manolo says, the springtime is indisputably the bestest of all times to be in the Washington, D.C.

In the summer, it is both roastingly hot and insanely humid, setting in motion the rare meteorological phenomenon in which the water is simultaneously condensing on your skin and being boiled away. Essentially, you are being poached in your own juices, rendering you nice and tasty for the mosquitoes.

In the winter, the first snow is greeted by the city government as if it were the unexpected, icy fist of God. Let four inches accumulate, and you are living in the Siberian version of Mad Max, in which society collapses and insane people careen around the street in outlandish vehicles looking for petrol and cat food.

As for the fall, every other year it is the election season, and the less said about that period of utter madness the better.

But, in the spring, the weather turns soft, and the cherry trees, the greatest of all the Washington monuments, bloom. Everyone seems happy, and kindness and charity reign supreme. And on the first warm days, you and your co-workers and neighbors go for the long lunchtime strolls along the Mall, talking about how lucky you are to live in the greatest city in the world.

Here is the Flower Shine from the Kenneth Cole Reaction in the stone color, perfect for your walk beneath the blossoms.

Johnny Depp was a presenter over the weekend at the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards and during his time on stage he proceeded to blow massive loads of green slime all over adoring children fans. Nothing wrong with that. Nope, not one bit. After all, it’s the innocence and naivety of children’s television shows and stars that make a rather suggestive act perfectly acceptable.

Right?

For example, take a look at teen star Taylor Momsen posing on the red carpet at the Kids Choice Awards:

The 17 year old starlet, also a presenter at the awards show, showed up looking appropriately bright eyed and innocent for the underage event. With her thick heavy black eyeliner, trashy extensions, and passive air of nonchalance, she is a prefect role model for today’s youth. The leather jacket and flimsy white tank work well with her black skinny jeans to construct a classic vampire-stripper-off-duty look. And the peeping fishnets that lead into those patent platforms are fit for a Suicide Girl.  Why, she’s a glowing gem that any pre-teen hunk would love to bring home to mom.

In all seriousness, I’m just pleased that she put on a pair of pants for once.

The typical Momsen ensemble almost always includes a garter belt, some sort of corset top and platform heels. The fact that this look is considered “classing it up” for her is simply disturbing. People are commending her for this “improvement” whereas I just think she needs to be grounded until she gets an attitude adjustment. She is 17! And her fans are probably younger!

It’s teen stars like this that make Rebecca Black seem like a very viable option for the spotlight.

Manolo asked, whose shoes?

Manolo answers, it is the Jewel!

Congratulations to the Manolo’s internet friend, the Carole, who the first and only person to correctly identify this week’s personage of note.

Manolo asks, whose shoes?

Aquatalia’s new fall line is spectacular. The brand recently got some heavy duty hype due to their boots being the shoes of choice for princess-to-be Kate Middleton. Unfortunately, the shoes Kate chose to parade around in were from an older season and by the time the media buzz hit the the ears of shoe enthusiasts those particular styles were sold out. But fear not! The 2011 Fall line is just as lovely and sure to impress.

I was lucky enough to meet with fashion director Rena Krasnow and preview the new Fall collection. It’s not often that I find myself in midtown Manhattan at noon on a Wednesday, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity of a sneak peek. Rena was gorgeous, charming and incredibly stylish (rocking a pair of Aquatalia boots, obviously).   As we perused the new line and munched on delicious macaroons, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the quality and subtle details that make the collection stand out. The focus on comfort is impressive. Some styles even feature fur lining on the inside of the shoe for extra added coziness. I love a shoe that can please both the observer and the wearer.

I found the true standouts of the line to be the boots. Marvin K. has designed a line that is not only aesthetically pleasing, but also durable and functional. Fashion with functionality and comfort…what a concept. Many styles also feature a wonderful elastic band feature. This allows for us ladies to cover those cankles or engulf itty bitty calves in boots that are custom made to flatter women of every size. Cute, comfy and clearly fit for a princess.

My personal favorite touch: the red lining and hardware detailing on the back of the boot. So cute.

The new collection also features classic styles in a calf hair camo print. Not my favorites of the line, but the shoes feel amazing and look very luxurious. If camo is your print of choice, these shoes are the way to go.

The new line will be available nationwide at Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom and Saks. I just may have to indulge in a pair. New York is a rainy place, but a girl’s still gotta look good.

Manolo says, the Manolo’s internet friend, the Yum Yum, has pointed to high-spirited Finnish rock band known as the Leningrad Cowboys, who for the past twenty years have been wearing the pointy hair and the pointier shoes.

In 1993, they even did the concert with the Red Army Chorus, of which the video below is the amusing artifact.

To the Manolo, the pointy-toes and pompadours of the Leningrad Cowboys have more in common with the Japanese Rockabilly dancers as the obvious appropriation and exaggeration of the American rock iconography, while the sudden appearance of the botas exoticas of the baile tribal are more sui generis and mysterious.

But, the Manolo leaves it up to you to decide.

Many says, here is the latest episode of FN Shoe Star competition in which the remaining five designers present to the judges their versions of the toning shoes.

As you may recall, the Manolo was less than thrilled with this challenge, and, predictably enough, the resulting shoes justify the wariness of the Manolo. But, this was to be expected, yes?

“Make the toning shoe out of recycled material.”

Heh.

But, before we can go to the judges table to view the carnage, we are treated to 45 mildly amusing seconds of Vasilios! kvetching at the designers, and offering not much in the way of usable suggestions.

And now, allow the Manolo to make the few short observations about each of the designers.

Keena is the smartest of the lot, not only is she well spoken, but she was also the only one smart enough to seem disgruntled by this silly challenge. Her shoe was nothing special, but her attitude was much appreciated by the Manolo.

Rachel is the marketing savviest of the designers. Does she have the degree in business? If not, she has been well trained in the dark arts of the sales presentations. The clear plastic glued to the outside of the shoe seemed gimmicky and cheap, but Rachel pushed it like it was the finest timeshare in all of Boca Raton.

Hyojin seemed to be confused and lost, and in her confusion she produced the same shoe that you would find on the shelves at the Dollar General store, marked down from $17.99 to $4.99. The Manolo is sorry to say that she will be eliminated this next week.

Matthew‘s chukka-ish boot was high concept but not especially exciting. Black on black on boring. Plus, he should not have cut his hair so short. He looks like the tennis ball with eyebrows.

Shannon is annoying, very annoying. Happily, her inflated sense of competency will soon lead to the most amusing disaster. On the other of the hands, however, allow the Manolo to give the girlfriend props for being the only one to try something different. Her boot was not bad when seen in the middle distance, until the top was rolled down, revealing the shiny interior lacing.

Of the course, the best moment of the whole show happened when Shannon was describing the wickety-wack…

Olympian disdain and bemusment.

Who is the winner? Probably Rachel.

Manolo says, it is Monday and you are back at your desk wishing you could be outside where the weather has turned seasonably vernal.

Outside, the bees are pollinating, the flowers flowerating, and the birds bird-a-mating, and you yearn to be with them, enjoying this green day.

The color of April is green, in the hundred thousand shades, dotted with the reds, and yellows, blues, and purples of the flowers that spring from the earth like the happy child leaping into your arms.

Inside, however, spring can gain no purchase in the land of eternal beige. It was beige in the fall when the season was orange and brown; beige in the worst of winter, when the land was brilliant with snow; and beige it will be still, when this season of life ends.

But you are not beige. You are green and red and purple and yellow, and your technicolor soul rebels against the tyranny of beige! You want to race outside, strip off your clothing, and roll around in the season!

But you cannot. This is the time of the crunch at your work, and you really need the job because the orthodontist is threatening to repossess your child’s teeth if his bill is not paid by the end of the month.

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they file not TPS reports, nor toady the district manager. And yet, the Manolo saith unto you, Angelina Jolie in all her glory was not arrayed like one of these…

The Tie-Ankle Cutout Pump from Diego Dolcini.

Have faith, dear friends, have faith.