Like most women and some men I have a love of shoes. I feel the need to be more specific. I’m not wild about sneakers, tennis, running, walking, canvas shoes, but rather those that I qualify as a shoe, slipper or boot. Something with structure made of leather or suede. Flat, mid or high heel. My most recent passion involves wedge soles. From moderate to extreme. I like when the wedge is covered in the same material as the top of the shoe, or that fun flirty cork look. Esperdrils, put a spring in my step and a Carmen Miranda wiggle. Some of my readers will need to search just exactly who Carmen Miranda was.
For the most part I purchase shoes seasonally unless Payless sends one of their wicked text notices to my cell phone. Who can resist a thirty percent off sale? I almost drool over super high spikes, held on to a foot by the thinnest of straps, but it’s been a long time since I have even attempted to teeter around on that sexy style. Today, I’d have better luck balancing on a skate board.
Now that I’ve mentioned almost all the footware I happily embrace I’ll get back to the intention of this rambling discourse, the glass slipper.
Why in the world would The Fairy Godmother fit Cinderella with glass slippers for a ball? They really weren’t slippers but rather high heels. You can’t dance in them as they have no bend. She knew that time was of the essence, and one cannot rush around in a delicate glass shoe. Glass against marble can’t possibly give the traction necessary for speed. Just too slippery. Because they are so stiff the improbable shoes don’t mold to your feet, therefore when running down the stairs, from your Prince, it is inevitable that you’ll lose one or both shoes. Lucky Cinderella didn’t fall down and crack her head.
We all know how Cinderella made out despite wearing those ill conceived Glass High Heels. However, should my Fairy Godmother ever feel the need to dress me for a ball I would like a lovely pair of traditional heels, Not Glass Slippers, Please.