Sunday, July 09, 2006

Shoes, No Socks

(Please note that this post was originally published June 9, 2006 and comments to this entry made before July 2006 can be found on www.guidetola.wordpress.com)

Lucia (see Comment #6 from First post, "What's with the title…" on guidetola.wordpress.com–By the way, has anyone figured out how to link to specific comments or if that is possible?) makes an excellent point about life in L.A., which is that one can go open-toe all year.



I personally hate socks. I lose them, I buy cheap (can we hear it for the 3 for a buck on the streets of Manhattan? Yes, probably made in China. Not good. But buying socks in L.A.? Means driving, parking, premeditating. You Europeans may not relate to this. I find socks quite pricey everywhere I have lived on the Continent, but at least in many places they are awfully pretty). Don't need socks in L.A. Ok, a pair or two for boots or running shoes or if you are freakishly prone to being cold. Ok, maybe a couple more for those of you who have to actually wear a suit to work. I hardly know anyone in LA who has to wear a suit to work. I think it's safe to conclude that for most of us, socks are optional.

But what about buying shoes? I have hardly been able to make that work in Los Angeles. I strongly suggest buying them in New York or Europe. Better, hotter looking, cheaper. Let's go 8th street and 2 for 1 sales. And Italy, it only needs one word. It is King. Most shoes I have bought in L.A. are "fun shoes"–the rare impulse buy of black plether, knee-high boots when I was acting out my bisexual friend's (the one who "made" me get them) frustration in her asexual lesbian couple, the ridiculous $15 tangerine Candies that are so uncomfortable but so Practical Trollop, every girl in LA should have them.



I have managed to score a decent pair of all purpose, cute shoes in Los Angeles only once, and I still wear them occasionally after four or five years. But it was no easy feat (no pun intended). It was at a store on Montana Avenue (on the south side of the street, closer to the West end of the shopping drag, quite pricey, can't remember the name.) I was about to leave for New York for the summer. Realized I had no NYC summer footware–you know, sturdy, sexy, daytime or nightime, goes with everything, so you don't need to carry an extra pair when you are out from 11 am to 4 am. I saw this one pair on sale (are there any other kind worth buying? More on the Art and Sport of Sales later…). They were very arty with wood sculpted soles/heel, sophisticated, sexy sandle-y and very comfy. Delighted, I wore them to a party that night, and within 15 minutes, the front chipped off. I'd never had a shoe chip on me. Nails yes. Furniture yes. Paint yes. Shoes no. I wasn't doing anything exotic. I think I was walking up the walkway. Boom, there went the front of the shoe. I called the shoe store the next day, and one thing I can say about Los Angeles is the customer service, while a little slow and ditzy at times, is often very nice. She was very nice. Told I could come exchange them for another kind of shoe, I returned to the store; however, there were no others on sale, and these were not bargain people (the Lebanese gal down the block, on the other hand, I would learn a couple years later is a bargain person. She has an eclectic clothes shop, is a great conversationalist, and has ridiculous sales items in the back–like yummy velour yoga pants for 10 dollars. She loves people from New York. No wonder! But I digress.) So against my ethic, I looked at the non-sale items. The sales chick (I don't usually use that word, but she was not quite a full woman, not quite a girl, young, chirpy, fluffy hair…she was a chick) asked what I was looking for as I browsed. I told her I was going to New York, so I needed a great all-weather walking shoe. She pulled out a mule with a two plus inch stiletto heel. Hello. (said my look). She tried to convince me that a lot of clients come from New York, and many women find this shoe comfortable to walk in. Perhaps. But I was thinking walking meant from the Upper West Side to the Village in 90% humidity, potentially with a thundershower mixed in. I know there are some New York women who gladly do that in stiletto heels. Not I. I finally settled on a neutral toned leather flat that did show wear and tear after the thunderstorms, but I admit they are not bad. Full price, but…Wait til you get to New York, if you can.

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