Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Dear Irregular Choice Shoes,

Dear Irregular Choice Shoes,

I was first introduced to you many moons ago when my girl Jessica worked at a relatively upscale shoe store and gave me a sweet, sweet discount on some terrycloth floral print pumps (which I subsequently broke the heel off of during a particularly wild dance party, but later got repaired). Your styles, in a nutshell, boggle my mind. You occupy a misty grey area, like the moors of Scotland, between shoes that are "cute," those that are "fashion-forward" and those that are "batshit crazy." I thought the terrycloth floral print pumps were bonkers. It turns out that compared with the rest of your line, they are like the orthopedic polio shoe my Grandma Luella wore before she died.

Cases in point:

Okay, this little baby, named Polly Picked a Pepper, is pretty much adorable. Cute but bold color, sweet detailing, interesting heel, etc. We start to see the cuckoo-bananas creeping in with the combination of a red shoe and a lavender flower. Not a combo you see often.
Slow Descent to Insanity Scale Rating: 2 (chewing your hair)

Cookie Green Blythe is the next stop on the Crazy Express. Still very cute - almost too cute, almost Japanese kawaii cute - but fashion-y enough that if you wore them, everyone would undoubtedly comment on them and their almost-a-wedge-but-not-quite-a-wedge-thank-god- because-I-hate-wedges heels. Also, they have a print, which is weird, but not unwelcome, in a shoe.
Slow Descent to Insanity Scale Rating: 4 (planning an elaborate wedding in your head for you and the cute guy across the train)

This boot, with the relatively pedestrian name of Parrot Talk, is hot pink and has a fucking parrot on it. And yet, in the world of Irregular Choice, this is, like, what your mom wears. To church.
Slow Descent to Insanity Scale Rating: 5 (feeling bugs crawling on your arms though there are no bugs)

This is what I'll be wearing in my upcoming production of Tartuffe's Zig Zag Can Can Extravaganza.
Slow Descent to Insanity Scale Rating: 7 (lengthy conversations with imaginary people)

My luchadora name is "La Defenestradora," or "she who defenestrates." These, dubbed Wrestlemania, are La Defenestradora's shoes, hands down. Note: these are not being sold as a costume. These are being sold as actual shoes you wear in your life, like to the drugstore and stuff. They're actually listed under the "Trainer" heading, implying that you could rock the elliptical in these. I'm not gonna lie: I'd do it, till the sequins fell off. But still: bonkers.
Slow Descent to Insanity Scale Rating: 8 (lengthy conversations with imaginary monkeys and/or unicorns)

I. Wait. What? There's a rope. And a triangle? For a heel. Secret Sailor, I have nothing to say to you.
Slow Descent to Insanity Scale Rating: 9 (lengthy conversations with Bilbo Baggins, who you call your "financial adviser" and have on "speed dial," though your "cell phone" is actually a banana)

Look, all I'm saying, Irregular Choice, is that while every single shoe you carry is some level of nuts, I still love all of them. And if that makes me crazy too, well, I don't wanna be sane.

I'm head over heels for you,

p.s. I'm usually about a US8-8.5/Eur39 in your shoes. Just, you know, in case you feel like sending me any.


Your Ill-fitting Overcoat said...

"This boot, with the relatively pedestrian name of Parrot Talk, is hot pink and has a fucking parrot on it."


Also, that last pair made me GASP.

With JOY.

And... you had me at 'banana'. Actually, you had me way before that, but that sealed the deal.