Red Shoes
Sandra Stephens’ note about red shoes made me smile. I wore red shoes a couple of times last week and they put a spring in my step. Several colleagues commented on them. Walking to my car one afternoon, the sun caught my shoes and made them glow. When I lifted my phone to take a picture, my polka dotted lunch bag photobombed it and added interest. The picture sparked the idea for this post.
The back story to the red wonders: On a windy fall day in New York City, I saw a willowy woman stride past in lollipop red Mary Janes. I could tell they were Rothy’s, so I jumped on their website almost immediately. They had Mary Janes in every color but the RED ONES WERE OUT OF STOCK. I settled for a black pair.
I am the bane of advertisers - I ignore social media ads. With one exception. I would occasionally click on Rothy’s ads to see if they had the delightful red shoes. Then suddenly last December, there they were.
I didn’t stop to think. Before I knew it, the order was placed. When the neat carton arrived, I tore into it and slipped my feet into the shoes. They looked good. Then… what do I wear them with… ? They sat on the shelf for a few months.
One spring morning, clad in a battleship gray turtleneck and black and gray checked skirt, I reached for my black shoes. Wait! This was my opportunity to add color to a dreary day. I threw caution to the winds and wore my new red shoes. A pop of color, a colleague said. I agreed.
After that, the shoes started creeping into my wardrobe with other random outfits. And they worked every time (for me, at least). Plus, they changed my outlook each time I wore them. So, whenever work challenges me, I put on my magic red slippers and I’m good to go. Click, click. There’s no place like mind over matter.
Polka Dots
My dear friend Marta chuckles when I wear patterns, because she knows it’s an effort. I have a love-hate relationship with patterns. I like seeing them but not on my person, except as accessories. Many years ago, Lands’ End carried fitted, polka dotted turtlenecks in a range of colors. I bought several because my wardrobe needed an overhaul. When I wore them, I felt like a decorated Christmas tree. Still, over the years, I have let patterns edge their way into my repertoire and even like some of them.
Home decor is where my love of pigments and motifs shines. When I was a child, there were polka dotted sheets at home - a mix of pastel shades on white for me and green/blue dots (his favorite colors then) on white for Arvind. When I saw polka dot sheets at Target, I snapped up a couple of packs. As they aged, I looked for replacements and eventually found some at Garnet Hill.
Accessories are another avenue to express my color and pattern fetishes. Although I seldom carry an umbrella, I love the way they look. There’s a charm and elegance to them, open or neatly folded up, even upturned or broken by strong winds. So when I saw Riesenthel’s polka dotted umbrellas at The Container Store, I had to buy one. It joins a beautifully crafted antique cane on my hall coat and umbrella stand. Both items do little else than add to my home’s eclectic ambiance. Once I bought the umbrella, other accessories with the same pattern swung on my radar - foldable totes, a money sleeve. With great effort, I ignored the luggage and gym duffel.
Yayoi Kusama’s art is so striking and wonderful. When they had an immersive experience at the Hirshhorn, Margareth and I tried to get in every week. Margareth’s persistence paid off. I was less rigorous, so I had to make do with seeing the pumpkins on the lawn outside. And they were spectacular.
Striking Patterns
Several years ago, sated on glorious art at Vienna’s Albertina Museum, I sat on a bench outside, getting slightly damp from the misting rain and drinking in the scenery. Two feisty horses stood before me, swinging their manes and clopping their hooves as they waited, tethered to a carriage, waiting for customers. There were many unfurled umbrellas and these caught my eye. Whether they understood my wild gestures expressing love of umbrellas, particularly these spectacular patterns, or they just humored a weird tourist, these kind women let me take pictures of them. I did not get their names.
The myriad woven patterns on Indian fabrics? That’s a story for another day.
I resonate so much with patterns being an effort! That said, I recently got a shirt that’s floral patterned: two things I would have NEVER worn just a few years ago. It’s now my “fun” shirt. 😆 (your cats are so cute!)