I’m not here to talk about Prince. I am forever sad about his death and I know many of y’all are too, and that is okay.
Instead I wanted to share a non-sad, glorious thing that happened to me a few weeks ago. It has brought a big smile to my face over the last few days as I steeped in purple mourning. But first, a little backstory.
Around 6-ish years ago I bought a pair of shoes from Anthropologie (I have since stopped shopping there for various reasons, like the CEO’s personal support of famously anti-LGBTQ Rick Santorum and UO’s notoriety for ripping off the designs and ideas of unknown artists + unapologetic appropriation, but I digress). The shoes were a Spanish brand called Hispanitas, and they were SO amazing. I had never before, nor have I since, owned a shoe quite like this. It was an oxford lace-up design, but unlike most oxfords I had worn, they weren’t clunky looking. The mouth of the shoe was wide and oval-shaped so it didn’t visually cut my legs off at the ankle like most lace-ups did. The shoe also gave me a little height- maybe about an inch and a half, give or take- without looking like I was wearing heels due to the clever design of having the upper leather of the shoe extend all the way down and over the heel. But even though they were technically heels (maybe even considered very narrow platforms) and had a feminine look, they were comfortable enough that I could walk around in them all day long with no problems at all. My pair was a peachy salmon color and they went with EVERYTHING: jeans, skirts, dresses, shorts, you name it.

Since they were my most comfortable pair of shoes, I brought them with me on every trip where I knew I would be walking a lot- I spent my 31st birthday biking in them around Paris (yay, Velib!), paired with my favorite vintage yellow knit skirt and a gray tank top and very big sunglasses.

And then, sadly, a year later I wore them on a walking tour of the Tower of London where it proceeded to rain so hard and for so long that I am pretty sure the amount of water could have single-handedly saved California from all it’s future droughts. I was, to put it mildly, soaking wet and absolutely miserable for the duration of the 3 hour tour, but my misery only intensified over the next few days once my shoes dried out and I realized that they were ruined.

They didn’t look too terrible at first glance, but the fit was awful now, probably because the leather and some of the internal components had been water-logged and destroyed. I assumed I would just be able to replace them with a new pair when we got home, so I threw the ruined shoes away before we flew back to the states; I realize in hindsight that that was a big mistake. The shoes were several seasons old by the time I drowned them at that old haunted castle, so the style was no longer available at Anthropologie, nor could I find them for sale from another retailer.
Over the next several years, I would randomly have a fleeting memory of how amazing those shoes were and I would go hunting for them online. Occasionally I would find a used pair for sale on a site like ebay, but they were never in my size, and I decided to face the reality that these shoes were simply lost to me. A few months back I was catching up on the new shoe-making endeavors of a fav blogger (Handmade By Carolyn) when she posted some youtube videos by a Philadephia man who makes besoke brogue shoes for men. There were something like 13 videos to watch the process, from start-to-finish, of him making a pair of shoes with regular household tools and supplies and they were chock-fill of information and ideas. While studying his technique and envisioning my own handmade brogues, an image of my favorite long-gone oxfords floated into my head and I realized how cool it would be to one day attempt to replicate those shoes on my own. I couldn’t remember all the exact design details of my old shoes though, so I decided to look them up online and screenshot some images to keep in my pinterest inspiration board….and lo and behold I found an actual pair of them for sale in my size!!! They were the powder blue color, not the salmon I had originally owned, but they were only gently used and in great condition! The site that was selling them was new to me- a blog called The Laws Of General Economy, run by several people dedicated to the slow fashion movement and interested in participants selling garments in good condition- not for profit, but rather to recycle clothing and ensure an extended life for well-made garments.
The individual selling my Hispanitas had posted them on the blog a month earlier but had received no buyers, so she reposted them at an even deeper discount a couple of weeks before I came across them online. To buy an item on the blog, you have to leave a comment with your name and email address, and at the end of a month, the seller will randomly choose one name from all the commenters to buy the shoes. At the end of the allotted month I was the only commenter who had posted, so the seller contacted me to arrange payment and the shoes were in my hands within a week for a mere $23!!!
I wore my “new” shoes around the house yesterday and they are just as fantastic as I remember- comfortable fit, slimming look (I have big feet to be as short as I am!), unique design. I am torn between wearing them out til they fall to pieces and pulling them apart so that I can see how they are made, but I think I have enough experience in shoe making now to understand the general components without destroying them.
The bottom of the shoe seems to actually be comprised of a narrow platform, not a heel, that tapers to the middle of the shoe, and the rubber sole is cut in an even thinner strip than the platform which helps give the shoe it’s skinny, featherweight feel. The toe of the shoe is a little square-ish, which normally I wouldn’t like, but, paired with the slim body of the shoe and stitching details, the overall look is sophisticated and feminine. I remember Rachel Corry from my last sandal making class talking about an amazing last-maker here in CA who makes lasts according to your specifications for a very affordable price, and I wonder if he could take this pair of shoes and recreate the last for me without destroying the shoes (I could of course make a pair of lasts for these shoes out of plaster of paris, but it would also require a bit of shoe destruction which I am not ready for).
So, this story indeed has a happy ending; girl finds dream shoe, girls accidentally destroys dream shoe, girl mourns dream shoe, girl gets reunited with dream shoe and wears them happily ever after. But I think the more important part of this story for me is having an experience where I love a garment so much that I am willing to put in lots of time and effort to recreate the feeling it gives me. I’ve definitely done this with clothing before, taking something apart at the seams and making a pattern out of it to sew it in new fabric. But with fashion being so expendable and many store-bought garments being so poorly made, it’s rare to fall in love like that- which is the math that keeps consumers coming back to stores again and again. What if everything in my closet brought me as much joy as these shoes have, provided me with that much inspiration? Honestly, I am not too far off- I would say that the vast majority of things in my life, particularly after having konmaried our home, bring me so much joy that I would be heartbroken if I lost them. But being reunited with these shoes has newly ignited my devotion to the cause: surrounding myself and adorning this body with things that make me feel confident and happy. It’s a lofty goal for sure, but it’s one that I don’t mind striving for.
So. Cheers to these new old shoes! May we all have the pleasure of being reunited with a good feeling that we have lost, no matter what shape or form it takes. To start, let’s turn up the stereo and shake our booties and give thanks to a legend we may not have known personally, but whose good feelings will live on in this world and in our hearts forever and ever! RIP, Prince!
Leave a Reply