Fur Real?

(Image via Harvey Nichols)

So it is that time of year again, when my thoughts turn to spending a lot of money on a dress that I might only wear once. Yup, it is Christmas time, and more specifically Christmas party time. I have two work Christmas dos this year. One is casual and starts with some ice skating so I will be going for cosy chic and the other I suspect will be a bit more dressy. It is at our offices in Lytham, near Blackpool so I'm guessing, and I might be way off mark, but I'm guessing that they might go all out. I think there might be some DRESSES, do you know what I mean? I think there might be more than the odd sequin in town. I mean we will be practically within spitting distance of the Tower Ballroom and if there is one thing that Blackpool loves more than a donkey ride and a drunken stag vomiting on the promenade it has got to be a sequin.

Of course I am a contrary beast. I always crave being out of kilter with the general flow, I like to swim against the current. So while I might tend to be over dressed most of the time when a dress code requests you go all out that is the point I tend to hang back,  to want to be a bit more nonchalant, a bit more, you know, Parisienne. I want to look as though I am not trying too hard.

So while I was looking at delightful black sequin dresses in All Saints

(Image via All Saints)

and LK Bennett,

(Image via LK Bennett)

with maybe a loose fitting tuxedo jacket thrown over the top, what I am actually more drawn to is a black trouser, flashing just the right amount of ankle, a short sleeved top of some kind (maybe white lace) and a really shit hot pair of shoes.

I was drawn to something similar to these

(Image via Telegraph Fashion)

 

which I think are awfully sexy. But I while looking for something similar I fear I have lost my heart to the Sophia Webster pair at the top. Aren't they to die? I truly would feel like the silliest and sexiest girl in all the land. Sequins be damned!

Nicholas Kirkwood - The Next Instalment

I apologise, loyal readers. Combining my love of puns and my love of Nicholas Kirkwood shoes means that I have really scraped the barrel of Nicholas Kirkwood-based puns over the years. So we've had the inevitable - In the Nick of Time, and In Good Nick, the silly - You're Nicked!, the tenuous - Knock on Wood (Kirkwood - geddit?!) and the ridiculous - Captain Kirkwood.

And even through all this you have stuck by me. I thank you.

So for once I will hush up my foolish punnage and just let you behold the wonder of his shoes. Enjoy!

(Images via Nicholas Kirkwood)

For Crying Out Loud

(Image via The Telegraph Fashion)

I love a bit of nude and neon. So Rosamund Pike is definitely in my good books with these amazing shoes. Bliss. She really is quite the expert in looking demure but not in the least dull. I am very much taking notes. 

Heaven Sent

(Image via Matches)

Correct me if I'm wrong but don't you think these are just the sexiest shoes you have ever seen? Yowza! I'm getting a bit hot and bothered...!

A Foot in the Door

 Chloe

Oh gosh, I have such an incredibly strong urge for a new pair of shoes. Something pretty and impractical, like any one of these pairs. That would be alright, wouldn't it?

Jimmy Choo

 Lanvin

 Miu Miu

 Nicholas Kirkwood

 Oscar de la Renta

(Images via Net a Porter)

Gilded Cage

(Image via Charlotte Olympia)

Look at the heels on these suckers. Yowza!

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

I don't get to wear heels anymore. I used to wear them all the time. Then I wore them every time I went out. Then it was just at work. And now I can't wear them there because there are so many stairs to deal with. So I wear them at weddings. Which just isn't enough heel action. I am seriously pining after them.

And if I were to buy a pair that would make sure that I started a career in wedding crashing it would be these by Camilla Skovgaard. If you're getting married let me know, I make a really fun wedding guest, I promise.

What a Heel

(Image via Glamour magazine)

Have you seen these trainers from Be&D?

You know the trainers that are pretending to be high heels.

They amuse me. But if I ever saw anyone out and about in them I think I'd assume they were an idiot.

Hot on the Heels

(Image via Topshop)

Fluorescent pink sheer heels?

I just don't agree with that.

Another String to Your Bow

(Image via Hobbs)

I saw this shoe in Hobbs the other day, and I was quite charmed by it. But it confuses me, because I also think it might be slightly ugly.

Like last year's court that someone has tried to modernise with a bow and some spindly straps. I'm not quite sure what to make of it.

But I appreciate its differences to most of what is out there.

Learning Curve

I'm generally not too sure how I feel about a curved heel. For the most part I think it is old fashioned. I love the Alexandre Birman above. Except not so much the heel.



But good old Miuccia Prada might sway me.



Because I am really charmed by the heel shape of the new Miu Miu collection.



Mostly because the heel curves out instead of in. And it's chunky. It's not trying to be pretty and delicate. It marvellously combines a retro feel with something very modern.


(Images via Shoerazzi and Net a Porter)

I am particularly hot under the collar for these with the bow on the side. Swit, swoo!

Plus, I reckon I'd manage not to fall over in them. And that's always got to be a good thing.

High Maintenance

Where do you think the dividing line is between terrifically elegant and looking like a newborn giraffe who hasn't worked out how to walk properly yet?



It's just a stab in the dark, but I think it might be before 5 inches.


(Via Kurt Geiger)

Don't you? Which is a shame because I think they are quite lovely. Even though they have a skinny heel when I have mostly been lusting after something a little chunkier.

Come Hell or High Water

(Image via Kurt Geiger)

I really shouldn't do this. I should know myself better. But nevertheless I went and made an empty promise to myself, didn't I? I said, "I will not buy shoes that are too high and that I can't comfortably stomp around in". And it was meant with the utmost sincerity.

But then I went and clocked these bad boys, and well, I think I might be wavering. Aren't they awfully pretty? Wouldn't they look great on me...?!

J'adore l'armoire!

(Images via Fab Sugar)

Aha! Now. A few ladies were wearing those bloody rotten shoes at that do. Aren't they just revolting? It's the ball on the heel that just kills me every time. It exists solely to add insult to injury.

I too loathe that heel shape. Madonna sported a (less) curvular heel at last years Cannes - clearly it was a warning sign of the state of things to come. It reminds me of overly curlicued furniture. Sort of like, LOOK! It's the Madonna-as-armoire era! No!

(Image via House to Home)

I do LOVE Vicky's hue though. I am intending to get myself that shade of mahogany in time to head to the hen party tomorrow. I am hoping that extreme colouration will detract from the textural issues that affect my bottom area (there is a hot tub you see, so swimwear will be involved and I didn't find out in enough time to lay off the cheese and wine and improve matters. Damn it!) I shall be locking myself in the salle de bains tonight with as many cans of Ambre Solaire as it takes. I have unlimited patience when it comes to textural emergencies.

Head Over Heels

Except I'm not. In love I mean. Well, not with those shoes at any road. Please, please, please tell me that those hideously shaped heels are not coming back in fashion. We all know how Miss. B likes to be on top of the trends. And I saw some meeedja type in Soho wearing them yesterday.

Please tell me it's not a sign of what is to come. I don't think I could bear it. They remind me of the time when I was about 13 when I persuaded my mother that I would commit social suicide if my feet were not immediately housed in a pair of high heels. Foolishly she agreed (and we all know what sort of trouble that has lead to in the recent years) and she was duly dragged to Dolcis, the height of sophistication don't you know, in some two horse town where I tried on every pair of black high heels that they were willing to bring out to me. Although you know the surly types who worked in Dolcis of a weekend, so it probably wasn't that many.

I forced my parents to sit there while I tottered about like a young fawn um-ing and ah-ing in front of the mirror. One of the pairs had heels like that. If ever there was something that had its time and its place then it was those heels (and even that was probably pushing it) so the thought that their popularity might be on the rise fills me with DREAD!

Fortunately I had the foresight not to buy those and instead to buy the highest, least practical ones ever that I happily walked around in for the next couple of years, probably with that bent kneed, jutting chin, bottom out walked so perfected by all 13 year olds who have no idea what they are doing with 4 inches. (My how things have changed!) So I was saved the ignominy of ever having had something so ugly on my feet.

I do wish that Vicky could say the same.