yep it's monday and that means it's time to think about what kind of shoes lucinda williams wears. i bet she wears really cool badass broken-in cowboy boots of a dusty mahogany. i think this could actually be a topic for the week. everyone who's lucinda-obsessed as i am or maybe has even seen what kind of shoes she wears--please write in.

(why do i think this will only be rayray and tracey? and maybe thad?)

oh goody gumdrops. i've been remiss in my postings due to the fact i have been holed up fighting the current cough/cold combination that's been sweeping our fine city. we are in the funny time in between mandals and boots, so i am mulling what will be the next scintillating topic of discord. will post it as soon as i dream it up.

closing out the season of the mandal debate with a few more thoughts:

rayray:

"why on earth is everyone so concerned about looking like a misinformed straight guy? i'm not talking about what metropolitan fashion allows, i'm talking about living in the goddamned tropics, where flip-flops are only an option if you are either a) standing still or b) walking from the el camino to the beach.

tevas? great for hiking. not so great if you don't want to wrap up your feet in faux-aztec microfibers.

and the point is well-taken about overlarge roman sandals, but . . . if you think i'm going to tool around in docks or sneaks or tennies or some other sweat-inducing foot-boat, you are all out of your mandal-abhoring minds, regardless of the day, the state, the hour or what the gay men are wearing these days.

hate the metrosexual, people, not the shoes."

i can hardly talk about the shoes i got on friday, they are that major. everytime i look at them i gasp in shock at the perfection this man leopoldo giordano has created. this guy is so underground there is not a mention of him anywhere on the web. fortunately barneys as usual has the good foresight to buy a few of his styles for fall. the ones i am lucky to own are a lavender ballet flat. rounded toe. but with a very very tiny and delicate 1/2 pointy heel built into the bottom of the shoe and set among a divine triangle of lavender suede, just a shade lighter than the leather. on the rounded toe there are gathers of ruched leather that is sewn in two seams over the toe. and a strip of the suede that reaches in a flowing organic wave from around the top of the shoe to the heel. i mean, really. and robins egg blue soles. i am breathless. which of course could also be the nasty cough i am presently fighting off with gallons of emergen-c, but probably not.

ps. i chopped my hair off. think anna wintour meets debbie harry. at least that's how my fabu hair creatrix/rocker/filmmaker rayya elias described it. and since i was obssessed with blondie since i was a child (yes i sat endlessly in front of the TV watching reruns of the muppet show hoping they'd re-broadcast the one where she guest-starred--the tide is high, but i'm holdin' on. . .) AND anna wintour and i have the same birthday, i think it actually fits.

must-read this tidbit from the archives of the atlantic monthly . all credits to elizabeth speirs at gawker for finding and posting it. felt i must share it with my readers, it's tenor ringing so true, even now 25 years later. i was a little seven year old who didn't even know new york existed as an entity when this piece was written, firmly ensconced in my idyllic midwestern upbringing. now i am caught in it's beautiful web and charm and neuroses, almost as completely as a native.

nothing to do with shoes but, my new favorite fashion statement: hanes white ribbed men's tank tops. soft, perfectly thin enough to wear under almost any blouse or shirt, long enough for my long torso, good for running, sleeping, or with a pair of blue cult jeans or my good, bad and ugly jean knickers (affectionately known to some as ass-pants) & high heel sigerson sandals. at kmart, $7.99 for a three pack, or on hanes $9.99 for 5 which is decidedly more affordable than james perse or even j crew's versions.

and they have to be hanes. don't be tempted to opt for the fruit of the loom ones in the value 5-pack. the sides are cut wayyy too low in those.

technically they are called A-shirts. A standing for ATHLETIC. and you know how athletic i am.

and auntie mary with her "seabiscuit" sandals. little black sphinx-like mules with a cute little buckle on the side. tres sexy with the cute black and white skirt!

and yes, mules can be bit clumpy at times, resulting in seabiscuit-like clomping sounds as you whiz gracefully across the dance floor, but they look so good, you have to deafen yourself to the noise.

had to re-think the mule that aerosole put out this summer. the one with the little bow on the side that came in pink, black, red. i was previously against it because of the roundness of the toe, but after seeing them this weekend on auntie marcia, looking like such a sexpot, i have to reconsider! she later changed into a sweet pair of emerald-green ballet flats. very chic with the turquoise dress.

and so. i stood down at the corner of the site today. there is now an official-looking gate with locks, built sturdily in the concrete. no falling apart fences or debris. the sky as blue as it was that day, that whole week really. remember the gorgeous indian summer we had that month, the only thing marring the landscape was the plume of smoke wafting over downtown, the acrid smell.

i stood at the corner today and listened to the names being read. the bare-bones of letters and syllables being said out loud over a pockmark in the ground. a visceral tribute, the only thing you can do that makes sense really. to say names out loud, in a sacred spot.

i wanted to wait and hear erica's name, but van acker would have kept me too long for work started soon. so i listened to the a's and i envisioned erica's throaty laugh, how she seemed to know all there was to know in the world. wise woman. i looked up at the sky again, around me at the english bobbies who had come to pay respects, at the traders in their silence and the office workers in their quiet tear-stains, wondered how, if she made it all the way down, why she didn't make it home?

dear friend and investment mom extraordinaire, kristin rolfes hall writes in on, you guessed it, mandals:

"I appreciate a man who wears sandals. To me, it says a lot about his personality. It is laid back and relaxed. I particularly like a nice pair of leather sandals with light summer slacks and a tropical shirt... I believe mandals are appropriate for a lunch date in the City, a boat ride up the connecticut river, or even dinner at the Palm in East Hampton. Bottom line: more men should kick
off their docksiders and don and pair of mandals. . ."

so the sun is finally shining and i think it's because i had so much fun hanging with the brothers sklar last night.

they killed at the comic strip and standup nyc, and i was there to witness all the audience-love. chopper 4, classic rock, and even an impromptu interview with ran when the mic didn't work. high hilarity as usual.

they turned me on to a band i hadn't heard of called the shins, we went to see them play at the bowery ballroom. a very cool venue that surprisingly i had never been to before. great tunes and those shin boys are just so CUTE with their hip trainers and intense intrument playing. good lyrics and some rockin' ryan adamsish tunes at the end.

we hung in the bar downstairs afterward where we debated what the shins sounded like (beach boys meets ray davies meets coldplay). i got read the riot act for not liking wilco. yes, i will go get yankee hotel foxtrot. and yes i will give it an unbiased listen. it's true, i sometimes have large gaps in my musical uprbringing. but hey i bet you've never heard of the swedish r&b singer robyn, one of my faves, have you? that clearly demonstrates i am not SO backwards when it comes to music just a little. . . slow.

FLIP-FLOP--NOT

ron louie and john klotnia, my brilliant designers at opto weigh in on the mandal debate:

john: "men shouldn't be allowed to wear open-toed shoes in an office environment. toes are ugly.

ron: "the beach is THAT way."

and yes, they also came up with that pseudo-post headline up top. they're smart that way. witty, even.

here i am in wonderfully drizzly nyc, the place that is channeling all the bad weather karma for the world for the last year, sending it's residents into bouts of lethargy, sneezing and hitting the snooze bar unprecendented numbers of times before actually rising out of bed. yes we love it here in the tropical paradise, where the sun shines and exotic birds tweet sweetly in the trees. oh no wait, it's actually 60 degrees and raining. yea. double yea. it's almost as good as when the blizzard and the war was starting at the same time. almost, but not quite.