one thing wanted: the pointed black flat
Things have got a bit heavy around here lately, so it’s time to talk about shoes.
Friends, I’m not sure that I’ll ever buy heels again. I know that slick, sassy city ladies probably slink about all day in sky-high heels quite happily (or do they..?) but I am not one of those ladies.
Years and years ago, I had a favourite pair of pointed, black leather flats. They were not just any leather flats; they were lamb’s leather flats — the most buttery-soft but non-daggy pair of shoes you could imagine. (Ignore the image of a baby sheep also edging into your mind right now. Soft baby sheep.) I bought them somewhere in Queen Street Mall circa 2006 and wore them to work for ages thereafter. The pointed toe and perforated polka-dot detail made them really cute. But I got rid of them during a culling craze (they were scuffed and I’m brutal), and I never paused to make note of the brand or manufacturer so that I could source a new pair one day.
Isn’t that always the way?
When I try googling ‘lamb’s leather shoe’ now, all I seem to get is a heap of hits for Gwen Stefani’s designer label, L.A.M.B.
This sucks a bit because I still have occasion to look corporate — when I meet a new client, for example, and don’t want to give the impression that I work in my pyjamas, even though I often do — and heels are out. Out. Just to emphasise how first-world-problem this is, may I just restate how difficult it is to find a pair of flat black leather shoes that don’t look part of a nurse’s day uniform? That’s why I like a pointed toe so much. You say ‘witchy’. I say ‘chic’.
I’ll never find a pair to match my lamb’s leather kicks, but these Diana Ferrari ones might do the trick.
There’s a whole lot of unintentional rhyme going on in this post, and for that I apologise.
I’m so glad I got this out of my system.