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Not Around to Quell the Tide of Terrible.

November 9, 2010

Oh me oh my I’ve committed the cardinal sin of blog writing and spaced for the past two months. And I was sort of chagrined to realize I ended on a post about kids shoes – not weighty and worthy subject matter for a blog that tackles such hard hitting issues. I’m the 60 minutes of shoe blogs yo!

Anyways – what can I say – I would prefer if I was predisposed to write out of happiness, joy and enthusiasm, but like most modern-day cranks it’s the opposite that truly inspires. In the past couple of months I haven’t seen much that’s peaked my pejoratives.

In fact – much like the newly in love, I’ve been sort of awash in the bliss of my own shoes, oblivious to the pain and misery of others. Fall arrived, and I threw down ecstatically and sociopathically (in the sense I felt no guilt that I didn’t QUITE have the cash) on a pair of pure goregeousity at Chassee Gardee – Dieppa Restrepo loafters.

Black, simple, sumptuous – I pranced around in those bad boys on the first day of wear – and extorted to god that I had found my perfect shoe and needed to search no longer. Born again loafer lover! No but seriously. They are perfection. Dieppa makes many a perfect shoe. I sort of pined for these – left – as well  But was thinking that there was currently too much overlap with my Bass loafers.

Anyhooo – so was living in the haze of self-satisfaction that comes from feeling chuffed about all my footwear for Fall – and as such was lulled into an apathetic lethargy about the shoe tragedies of others. It’s shameful to admit – but it’s like how sometimes you opt to watch 5 consecutive seasons of 24 on DVD, diligently avoiding  actual TV with its commercials and threat of newscasts about real things – cocooned instead elsewhere, blind eye turned to the broad assortment of global crises.

So I mean – listen, just as I know that some seriously rough shit went down over the past couple months (uhh, Chilean miners)I also know that there was probably a fresh shoe horror unveiling itself on the streets every day.

But again – sometimes it takes a micro tragedy to propel us from our torpor. Something to truly outrage, something so abnormal, abhorrent and against all laws of nature that you can’t just walk by and pretend it’s not happening.

You have to stop and take a stand – give CPR to that homeless person, help that woman with her double stroller, pick up that clump of besmeared detritus that’s been sitting on your lawn all summer- take action people! STAND UP FOR SOMETHING. It’s like in Norma Rae when Sally Field finally  gets up with her homemade placard – and is like STRIKE yo.

I’m finally breaking my SILENCE – with this:

Javier it hurts.

I mean – can you even SEE what’s happening here? And I’m not talking about Penelope’s Uggs. Javier Bardem – who I find quite a biscuit – is wearing THESE –

New Balance. Words escape.

So. I don’t really understand. What is the allure of these shoes (I shall not sully the sneaker by calling them such) for someone like Javier Bardem? I mean I get that celebs are people just like us – because US Weekly tells me-  but why would he feel compelled to find the ugliest, most pedestrian ‘athletic’ shoe on the market, pass over the pesos and then wear them in public? The things is – this isn’t the first time Javier’s shoes have caught my eye and had me perplexed. He seems to have a predilection for jogging shoes – which I’ve never been a fan of except for the always and forever classic Air Max.

Javier. Not jogging, and yet wearing jogging shoes.

Ew. Listen. I’m happy him and Penny are seemingly nice, down to earth people who just want to procreate in Spanish splendor – but I find it an intrinsic shame that people – cough – I find attractive insist on wearing terrible things. Right? It’s like a MAJOR disappointment. Not that I’m taking it personally. And then:

Looking verrryy closely . .

I mean – he’s very clearly  wearing Crocs. Strange – and Sean Penn looks so happy to meet him regardless.

Needles to say I’ve been jostled from the reverie that was September and October. It’s obvious I must remain vigilant. Now that we’re entering winter – undoubtedly there will be host of hideous faux fur trims to take to task. And so I begin November – eyes agog and ablaze.

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