Minding the Manolo

From a normblog reader this tale of woe and learning:

Once upon a time there was a young girl who every day read the blog of the marvellous person, the Manolo. She read it for its exquisite taste, its witty literary style and its humane and enhancing attitude to matters of everyday existence. But she was a bit of a foot-dragger when it came to actually following the advice contained therein: i.e. you must only ever buy the super fantastic shoes, and if you are the poor girl (which this girl isn't, actually) then you must save up.

So one day she buys, in a shoe shop near her house - i.e. a local suburban shoe shop in inner London - a pair of brown leather-studded wedges, very much de nos jours, but not what you would call super fantastic and certainly not expensive or good quality. But so what? They are only to last a short season, as the English summer is. Exceedingly short. So she has disobeyed the rules of the Manolo, not once, but twice, because he has already pointed out to her what she knew. If you are a big-legged woman, no ankle straps.

The weather continues seasonally cool, and still the shoes remain in their box until, one day, she sets off for France, more specifically the Cote d'Azur, in fact, Nice. She brings with her three pairs of shoes.

1. The Prada trainers she wears on the plane, with jeans.
2. The high-heeled black patent car-to-bar shoes for drinks at the Hotel Negresco.
3. The new wedges, ideal for wearing with the collection of Zara dresses she has brought with her, after assiduous attention to the self-tan application, a week beforehand, on the legs.

She arrives at the hotel, checks in, admires the terrace - where she will no doubt be sitting out sipping a glass of rosé - showers, changes into her Zara dress, puts on the brown wedges and sallies forth.

As she gets to the lift, she notices that the ankle strap on the right shoe has come undone, and she bends to fasten it.

Stepping out on to the Promenade des Anglais, she notices that once again the ankle strap of the right shoe has come undone. She bends to fasten it. At this point, the tiny pointed bit of metal that is part of the buckle, the bit that fits through the hole in the strap, falls off and vanishes under les pieds français of the passers-by.

Merde!

She now has a number of choices: she wears the same pair of travelling jeans for the whole four days, with the Prada trainers. She wears the Prada trainers with dresses, which is not a look that she admires, it reminding her of the bag lady, or the New York working girl saving on shoe leather. She wears the high-heeled bar-to-car shoes, and doesn't leave the hotel at all.

Or...

She returns to the hotel and asks the receptionist to call her a taxi to take her to the rue des Shoe Shops. Mais la jeune fille at reception offers une autre suggestion. If Madame can manage to hobble a few metres, maybe une minute et demi, she will reach the boutique d'Agnès b, the celebrated Parisienne designer, who stocks a small number of shoes, all très moderne, très chic, très super fantastique.

We know what the Manolo wishes our heroine to do. We submit to our fate.

At the boutique d'Agnès b, she buys the heart-stoppingly super fantastic shoes of a glazed black leather with glazed silver leather soles (the bit your foot rests on, not the bit that hits the pavement). And amazingly, these are only 115 of the European Euros, which isn't even at all expensive. She looks longingly at the other shoes, particularly the gold silk Mary Janes. Un autre temps, certes. Je reviens.

Now she has worn her new shoes every day since Monday and she loves them above everything else in her wardrobe, for unlike the Christian Louboutins she bought in the Vogue sample sale, she can wear them every single day if she wishes, and they're comfortable! (Apart from the bit across the toes that drew blood after a long walk, but so what? The blood can be washed off the leather, easily.)

So that is the story of the person who paid no attention to the Manolo, and of her fate. And you can be assured that she has now learned her lesson good and proper, and will never disobey the advice of the Manolo ever again. And because of this, she will live happily ever after.