Dear Fendi, I just don't believe the story you're trying to feed me with your shoes... you must sell me this identity. While this shoe may suggest wildebeests and adventures in frozen landscapes, it is mere suggestion. In reality, this shoe represents puddle-hopping on a chilly New York day so as not to damage one's furs.
Robert Clergerie tells me of the wild winter primitive that lurks inside my soul. Trudging through icy tundras, avoiding men with clubs, eating raw meat but not in a sushi way... It could easily be paired with dirty hide strips that serve only to protect you from the elements. I am the ancestral princess of a snow-entrenched queendom, completely untamed and ready to club a seal.
My favorite, however, is the Christian Louboutin Splash Fur heel we see here. It takes us in the other direction. This shoe is not a reality, it is decidedly fantasy. For the snow-bunny fashionista with her Barbarella thighs looming above elongated legs.
Shoes help express the multifaceted nature of women.
This post was brought to you by the wild ancient sexuality that lurks in all of us...
Thank you Raquel Welch.
On a personal note: I don't support the sale of furs.
1 comment:
Re: Furs, leather, etc.: But isn't that the truth of it? Isn't that another example of the not-so-subtle violent oppression of the _other_? As woman, I am connected with animals, (whether authentically in a shamanic earth-wisdom sense, or in a contrived, commodification of the body sense) and therefore as a symbol of my sub-humanity I am eager to wear the carcasses of my sister beasts.
And isn't it amazing how the designers of the sexiest shoes are men? Women's shoes (if seen as an extension of the self) are all named after men.
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