For as long as I can remember, shoes have been my fashion safety zone; even if I couldn’t get my hands (or my waistline) on the clothes that I coveted, I could usually rely on slipping my toes into a show-stopping heel. Equal parts growing up in school uniforms where only my feet were free reign, and always being a “bigger girl,” shoes are accessible, almost democratic, and have a completely transformative effect that makes you stand taller (sometimes literally), walk stronger, and feel more confident — or at least, this is the effect a fantastic pair can have on me.
Last spring, as I watched the Miu Miu livestream of their fall '11 show, there was one, and only one, thing I could think about: the completely mesmerizing, unsurpassably sparkling, glittering curved heels and booties. I was hardly the only one immediately obsessing over these shoes, and I’m sure that for months I tortured my friends with incessant mania — long emails waxing poetic about my absolute need for these shoes and 140-character theses on the Miu Miu glitter bootie as my spirit animal! My need was almost compulsive. Until, of course, the shoes finally became available, every A-list editor at the spring '12 shows was Tommy Ton-ed while wearing a pair, and the price of — gasp — $890 finally set in for this young fashion writer.
As fate would have it, the shoes ultimately ended up in my closet (and on sale, to boot!) — and, at last, a gold, glittering curved heel and a pink-and-silver bootie were mine. I paraded around my apartment, convinced myself that they were, in fact, comfortable, Instagrammed the hell out of them, and wore them to every event I could reasonably justify — even brunch!
Was I becoming a fashion victim?! Something that was so of-the-moment was in heavy rotation in my wardrobe. Even Shit Fashion Girls Say called me out — “She’s still wearing the Miu Miu glitter bootie...”
It got me thinking about the life span of my most coveted sartorial investments. Is “last season” still a thing? In a climate of high-and-low, fast fashion, investment buying, and, dare I say, global warming, does fashion still have a moment where it’s in-one-season, out-the-next? I’d like to think our trends are less pervasive than that, but either way, I’ll be damned if you can knock the smile off my face when I walk out the door in my so-last-season sparklers.