Confessions of a Shoeaholic.

I love shoes. No, I love shoes. When I use the word love to describe my unabiding enthusiasm for footwear, I'm not alluding to some weird sexual kink in the fetishistic sense. I am merely a self-professed footwear aficionado. Not any kind of shoes, of course, but shoes which reflect my projected self (to borrow a phrase from Jungian psychology). Shoes which are quirky and playful. Shoes which are a work of art. Shoes which possess certain characteristics that differentiate themselves from the purely functional and run-of-the-mill sort of shoe.

The elegant white shoe showcased at the beginning of this post is what started this whole fascination with footwear. The singlemost expensive shoes I've ever purchased, I paid over $400 for my Peter Fox shoes with the silk-satin ribbon and have worn them exactly once ... on my wedding day. I'd wear them again were it not for the fact that they look like bridal shoes.

Next in the line of "shoes I own and love" are my red Camper Twins which I purchased for 90 Euros (at that time, roughly $150 CDN) in Barcelona during a vacation in 2003. I had never encountered shoes possessed of such a conceptual playfulness before I'd laid eyes on these asymmetrical maryjanes. I'd gladly own a few more pairs of these artful shoes were it not for the fact that Campers generally retail for over $200 CDN in Toronto. Incidentally, the embroidered text reads: "He loves me..." and on the companion shoe "He loves me not..." with the white petals of the daisy blowing across the red canvas of both shoes. Who'd guess that footwear could be so poignant?

Fortunately for us footwear aficionados, funky shoes can also be found at bargain prices if one is willing to search through consignment shops. I found a pair of scotch-tartan shoes by the UK label Swear for $35 in a consignment shop in Kensington Market. Comfy as well as stylish.



As recently as last week, I discovered this unholy marriage of punk sensibilities in an athletic shoe: the skull-patterned All-Star Converse. How much fun are these, huh? I've been wearing them pretty much non-stop since last week and, yes, Converse shoes are still as uncomfortable as I remember them to be.

Lastly, I have a photo of some shoes that I'd love to acquire were it not for my perpetual state of poverty. Fluevogs. Gorgeous, sexy, wild & funky Fluevogs. Yum-yum. I am especially attracted to the Goth-meets-Lolita quality of these black, triple-banded maryjanes. I even own striped tights similar to those pictured.

Okay, 'nuff about shoes. Before ya'll think I'm a vapid, superficial kinda girl, I'll end this post to peruse some Kierkegaard before retiring for the night.

(Just kidding about the Kierkegaard.)