We Have a Really Big Shoe for You Today ...*

I've often wondered what it is about shoes that makes some people crazy.

There are women, for example, who can't have enough pairs of shoes, in every conceivable style and every color of the rainbow (and a few colors nature probably never intended). I have known women who would gladly go without food rather than pass up the latest pair of wonderful shoes from some famous Italian designer, and who are willing to risk permanent spinal damage and the threat of falls in order to wear extraordinarily high heels that might have passed in medieval times for instruments of torture.

Former Philippine First Lady Imelda Marcos was famous (or infamous) for her enormous collection of shoes, said to number over three thousand pairs. She, however, was quoted as saying, "I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty," which is still a pretty respectable number, given that you can only wear one pair at a time.

By the same token there are men who are, for whatever reason, enamored of women who wear shoes with stratospherically, dangerously high heels** ...

In the words of an interesting article I found the other day, "What is it about tarty shoes on a naked chick that keeps guys coming back for more?"

What, indeed?

I've never understood the fascination with high-heeled shoes. They look dangerous and uncomfortable, and their cost - in terms of amount of material used in construction - is matched only by designer bathing suits of microscopic size and astronomic price. I've never felt that they added anything to the desirability of an otherwise beautiful lady that attractive clothes wouldn't do better. They are said to make a lady's derriere twitch more alluringly as she totters along, but I've never seen it.

As it happens, I have a small amount of experience wearing shoes with heels. Back when we were dancing competitively and training hard, Agnes convinced me to buy a set of Latin dance shoes with 1.5-inch Cuban heels, which were supposed to help enhance my Latin hip motion^***. While not as "high" as the three-inch heels Agnes wore for dancing, they were high enough ... I never felt like I could keep my balance or walk properly, and always had the feeling that I was ready to fall forward onto my face. It gave me a new appreciation for what ladies go through when wearing heels ... and I only ever wore them a few times before returning them to the box which, to this day, sits high on a shelf.

So, what is it with shoes, anyhow? If you're a man, you only need three pairs of shoes: brown, black, and athletic⁺ ... unless you need special shoes for your sport of choice: golf shoes, soccer cleats, dance shoes, hiking boots, etc. If you're a lady, you need dozens of shoes in a rainbow of colors (including 15 shades of white men cannot distinguish from each other).

I almost never notice a woman's shoes, no matter how high the heels are (or aren't). The one exception I can remember was the day our friend Nadja came to visit wearing this amazing high-heeled technicolor footwear ...

My eyes hurt for days.

So ladies, if you want to attract my attention forget the heels - wear comfortable shoes. Spend your money on nice tank tops instead. No, not these ...

these ...

They're a lot more comfortable to wear, and a lot cheaper than exotic shoes.

You're welcome.

Have a good day. Put your best comfortably-shod foot forward.

More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

* With apologies to the late Ed Sullivan.

** Colloquially, if crudely known as "come-f**k-me pumps."

^*** It didn't work.

⁺ What we used to call "sneakers" before they were specialized into oblivion.

The Eye of the Beholder, Revisited

What makes a woman beautiful? The answer to that question varies with the man (or lady) who answers ... hence the old adage that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I've written on this topic, which I find fascinating, at least three times ... if you want to go back and check them out, here are the links: "The Eye of the Beholder ... and the Beholdee;"  "The Eye of the Beholder;" and "Sonntagsgesicht."

I thought about the whole eye of the beholder thing again yesterday when I followed a link trail to this article in Men's Health magazine: 11 Qualities of the Perfect Woman. According to the article, the eleven qualities that combine to make up the perfect woman are (I'm paraphrasing just a bit and - of course - adding my comments):

1. Laughs at your jokes (or in Agnes's case, groans at my jokes);

2. Is two to four years younger than you are (Mrs Robinson was evidently not typical);

3. A nice smile (yes!!);

4. Big breasts (now that's a shocking revelation, isn't it?);

5. Long legs (tall ladies are sexy, even if sometimes a challenge to dance with);

6. Her own career and money (although the stereotype is of the gold-digger on the lookout for a sugar daddy, the evidence seems to indicate that many men like a woman who can contribute financially to the long-term relationship);

7. Small feet (considered to be more feminine and attractive);

8. Well-educated (contrary to popular stereotype, men generally don't prefer dumb ladies);

9. Wears red (much research shows that men are attracted to the color red ... which is why red clothing, lipstick, nail polish, etc, tend to be big sellers. I read somewhere that this is because of a fixation on the color of healthy female ... uh ... nether parts ... for a longer discussion of this point, see my post from April 18th of this year: The Eye - and Nose - of the Beholder);

10. Narrow hips (oddly enough, in many cultures men seem to prefer broad hips because they supposedly indicate good child-bearing potential);

11. Brown hair (I was always partial to women with dark hair ... black especially, but also shades of brown ... which is, of course, why I married a redhead. Go figure).

So, Dear Readers, what do you think contributes to the ideal member of the opposite sex? Inquiring minds want to know, so leave a comment.

And ladies, I love you all, no matter how many of the eleven qualities you have (or don't). As Jean Kerr once said, "I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being skin deep. That's deep enough. What do you want, an adorable pancreas?"

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Sonntagsgesicht

Three things came together in my ever-churning mind this morning.

First was a brilliantly clever post by Angelique titled National Other Woman Day, an ingenious look at a new business opportunity for entities which have already exhausted the commercial potential of Valentine's Day and the various related (Insert Individual/Group Here) Days.

The second was this article, which estimated the total annual cost of looking as good as actress Jennifer Aniston at approximately $141,037 ... a figure that includes the costs of skin care ($1186.95), hair care, makeup and makeup artist ($4,402.00), eyebrow sculpting and maintenance, the amortized cost of two nose jobs, spray tan ($45.00 every two weeks), personal trainer for body maintenance (about $900 per week), diet (services of a dietician and specially-made meals - about $685.00). I didn't double-check the math, but supposedly the whole annual tab to look like this ...

... comes to $141,037, which is not chump change.

I think Jennifer Aniston is a beautiful lady. But somehow, I think that spending more than $141,000 per year to look beautiful is a bit over the top.

Now, I believe in looking good. Or, at least, in looking as good as a well-used 60-year-old can. I take a shower every day, shave on most days, comb my hair, carefully pack the bags under my eyes, and generally dress in a fashion that won't make Agnes roll her eyes and ask are you going to wear that? Regina cuts my hair at the local Hair Cuttery every two weeks for $19.00. I could probably use a nose and ear hair sculptor, but that's probably going a bit too far.

But what else could you buy for that $141,037? Extrapolating from figures on the College Board website, the average cost (tuition and fees) of a four-year degree program at a high-end college was $144,000 ($36,000 per year) ... $141,037 would make a pretty respectable down payment. It wouldn't make you look as good on the outside, but it would certainly help polish up the brain underneath all the hair and makeup and sculpted eyebrows.

The third thing that helped give me the idea for this post was a song by the Italian singer Milva titled Sonntagsgesicht - literally, Sunday Face. It tells the story of the mistress who always wears her special face - her Sunday face - for her lover ...

Du siehst immer nur mein Sonntagsgesicht,

Du siehst nie mein Alltagsgrau;

Keine Angst, damit belaste ich dich nicht -

Ich bin doch nicht deine Frau.

In English,

You always see my Sunday face,

You never see the everyday one;

Don't worry - I'm not complaining about it -

After all, I'm not your wife.

The second line uses the wonderfully expressive and impossible-to-adequately-translate word Alltagsgrau, which literally translates as everyday gray.

So, where am I going with all this?

You don't have to ... or, at least, you shouldn't have to ... spend tens of thousands of dollars a year to put aside the Alltagsgrau. I appreciate a beautiful lady as much as the next man (look who I married, after all), but I think there's a practical limit to what one ought to spend to look good. I'm reminded of the old joke about the man who picked up a good-looking lady at a club and took her back to his apartment for the night ... and after she'd taken off the fancy clothes, makeup, hair extensions, padded bra, false eyelashes, press-on fingernails, and other beauty enhancements, she disappeared.

Work on the inner beauty. After a while, even $141,037 will only help the outside so much. And, in most cases, the Alltagsgrau isn't as bad as you think.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The Eye of the Beholder

There's just no predicting how many comments I'm going to get on a post. Yesterday's rumination on fine art, beauty, and the birthday of Claude Monet netted eight comments ... while not a record, that's a bit above normal. Go figure.

Since I could use a mental boost this morning before heading to another day in the bureaucratic trenches, let's continue to talk about beauty.

The other day, Mike linked to a very interesting article from Esquire Magazine - an atlas of the sexiest women in the world. As you might suspect, the list was full of very beautiful women, but also of women who aren't traditionally beautiful, but sexy in the sense of what they are rather than how they look - the prime example for me was Burma's representative on the list, human rights activist Aung San Suu Kyi - brave, tough, totally admirable ... and cute.

I wrote about the whole eye-of-the-beholder thing in a post back in 2007, and again last year. What I wrote then still applies ... I think the world is full of women who are beautiful on many levels. And what Jean Kerr said back then is still true:

"I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want - an adorable pancreas?"

So ...

To all my beautiful fellow bloggers - Andrea, Buggie, Kathy, Chrissy, Angelique, Amanda, Heidi, and all the rest^{1, 2} - have a good day. You're all beautiful to me.

Have a good day. See the beauty. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

1 - If you're not on the list, don't take offense ... space prohibits me from listing all the beautiful ladies I know.

2 - Sorry you didn't make the list, Mike and John. You're just not my type.

B.