Posts Tagged ‘women’s shoes’
Shoe notes from Alyx The Intern
Alyx – The Intern: February 2, 2012
On Tuesday I was given the opportunity to accompany Cynthia to Neiman Marcus’ downtown store where she interviewed Burt Tansky, former group CEO. Mr. Tansky worked as a shoe salesman as a young boy and continued his career in the fashion and merchandising world until his retirement in October 2010. As an aspiring shoe designer I was intrigued to hear what he had to say about why women’s shoes are such a successful market and gain tips on what I can do in the future. Surrounded by tables of beautiful (drool worthy) shoes by Prada, Chanel and my personal icon Manolo Blahnik, just to name a few; I listened as Mr. Tansky spoke about a woman’s “need” to buy shoes. We could have hundreds, even thousands of shoes in our closets and yet we still “need” a new pair, this is because of the effect our shoes have on us. Whether it makes a woman feel sexy, confident, comfortable or revamps an that old little black dress, we use our shoes as (in my opinion) the ultimate accessory. He mentioned the attitude woman have when they’re shopping, then the change that occurs as they step onto a shoe salon floor. As I watched I noticed he was correct; women who walked through had their back a little straighter, held a slower pace and a hint of a smile. Though how could you not smile when seeing Lanvin’s bright colored table or YSL’s sky high stilettos, I know I had moments where I’m convinced time simply stopped. Relying on the designers latest line is what helps drive sales for even the greatest shoe salesman. If the customer doesn’t see anything they like, they’ll just walk on by, but a woman who walks through a shoe floor hopes to find something she “needs.” I’ve stored Mr. Tansky’s thoughts and opinions into my always accepting mind for ideas, knowledge, experience and inspiration, to be used for my future in hopes that one day my shoes will stop time for a shoe-aholic such as myself.
SOLE SISTERS Joins IndieGoGo
SOLE SISTERS joins IndieGogo, an online fundraising platform to collect funds for creative projects.
We have to acknowledge that people are accessing story in ways we’ve never encountered before in history. A generation is growing up surfing from one media platform to the next without even being aware of doing so. As Filmmakers we are surfing right along with these people.
Through tansmedia techniques we are creating a story architecture that invites you and your friends to participate virtually and simultaneously. Fundamentally Sole Sisters is about intimacy and connecting the storyteller with the audience. As the SOLE SISTER community grows we are seeking innovative ways to help women share their stores, not only virtually but financially. Click here to learn about our latest projects including the cutting edge Shoe Confessional and contribute to the many on-going projects.
SOLE SISTERS Finds its Solemate in University of Sheffield
Imagine how surprised I was when I received an email from some professors at University at Sheffield. They found us on Twitter . They had a grant to do a 3 year study on people’s identity with their shoes. I was ecstactic. We have tried to figure out how we can collaborate. They are suggesting questions for the SHOE CONFESSIONAL and we are sharing stories. Below is their description of their project which is so similar to ours accept we are focusing on women’s identity. It is amazing that two groups would be working on the same project at the same time. What I love is that we are doing it through our own disciplines. And in different ways.I also like that we are willing to share to enrich each other’s project. That is SOLE SISTERS.
From If The Shoe Fits project
IF THE SHOE FITS? FOOTWEAR, IDENTITY AND TRANSITION
Jenny Hockey (Principle Investigator), Victoria Robinson (Co-Investigator), Rachel Dilley (Research Associate), Alex Sherlock (Postgraduate Researcher)
GETTING SERIOUS ABOUT SHOES
This project makes shoes a starting point for finding out how people take on and move between identities, both on a daily basis and throughout the life course. Shoes are currently high profile in advertising and they also play important roles in popular culture, as well as folklore and fairy tales. It is striking how often shoes are attributed with the capacity to change us, both men and women. For example, the seven league boots that help Puss-in-Boots go up in the world; Cinderella’s ‘glass’ slipper; Dorothy’s red shoes in the Wizard of Oz, Billy Dane’s magical football boots; the promise of athletic performance in Nike adverts; and the representation of the ‘power’ of designer heels in Sex and the City.
What we want to find out is how these images of personal transformation might relate to actual shifts or transitions of identity that go on in everyday life and during the life course. For example, shoes feature within many everyday transitions: between life course categories (baby to toddler, single to married); activities (work to leisure); health and illness (orthopaedic shoes); gender identities (from man to woman); social classes (Reebok Classic to Sloan Loafer); everyday and specialist competencies (mother and climber); and lay and professional identities (from Kickers to the funeral director’s shiny black shoes).
From If The Shoe Fit project
The contribution of shoes to everyday and life course transitions suggests that they are more than just symbols of change. Instead they seem able to change embodied experiences of time, place and identity. In contrast to many forms of clothing, shoes can almost become part of the body, taking on the shape of the foot, and changing the way we move. Many skills and competencies rely on the right footwear, for example, in classical ballet, football and climbing.
WHY SHOES NOW?
Marketing data show a considerable increase in our spending on shoes in western societies and our shoe consumption patterns have dramatically changed in recent years. In 2007 Mintel reported that ‘shoes have moved centre-stage in fashion and have grown much faster than clothing in the last five years’, they are ‘no longer seen as a clothing essential to be bought on a replacement basis only’.
What is driving this change? Is it the promise of transformation with which shoes are imbued in fairytales, popular culture and advertising? Shoe designers seem to think so: Natacha Morro claims that ‘Shoes turn you into someone else’. By addressing these questions, our project contributes to current sociological debates. It asks whether people in relatively wealthy western societies are discovering new scope for self-reinvention through this kind of consumption – or whether individuals everywhere and always have tried to shape their identities and reflected upon the results.
Our project is also concerned with sustainability. How do we care for our shoes, what are our practices when it comes to recycling shoes, shopping in charity shops and other second-hand, sometimes retro, outlets? How else do we dispose of our shoes? Why do we keep shoes we no longer wear (or have never worn)? What makes a pair of shoes unforgettable?
http://www.sheffield.ac.uk/iftheshoefits
Look At Sydney Now
Sydney Smith
These are my brother’s boots. I didn’t really know where they came from, but they reminded me of the old doc martins we wore back in the day. We both wore the old ox blood docs and listened to only the most hardcore punk bands. The soles on these boots however were completely flat; no heel. I grabbed them along with several other items from his apartment; a bible, a blanket, and a video tape with his writing “Western Conference Championships.”
My sister Holly called me at work on June 14th 2004. My birthday was the day before and I’d not received my customary call from my brother or my father wishing me a happy birthday. My sister’s call was unintelligible; in the background was chaos. My sister’s voice told me “Sydney, I’m so sorry to tell you this – but Dan is dead.” My brain kept hearing “Dad is dead.” My mother grabbed the phone from my sister and repeated the words “Dan is dead. There is no hope.”
My little brother’s name was Dan Zachariah Chavez. He was above all my protection. He had a thick mop of dark brown hair, light green eyes and the skin tone of my Spanish mother. In a word he was beautiful. But most of all he had a tender heart, and he was fiercely loyal and extremely protective of me. Despite being my younger brother he towered over me. We were 17 months apart. For years we were exactly the same height and everyone thought we were twins until he finally passed me up.
Our parents divorced when I was 19 and Dan was 18. We stayed together and got our own apartment and watched over one another. On my watch I cared for him along with several others kids our age. It wasn’t long that our nights of parties took a very dark turn and I found myself taking care of 4 drug addicts. The youngest, George being 14, Scott was 16, Dan was 18, and Jay was 19. Never in my life would I have imagined that my brother would put a needle in his arm. Yet I didn’t stop him.
My sisters and mother cleaned out his apartment and tried to piece together what happened. We grew up in an upper middle class family but we all struggled with our own issues. For years Dan was a very successful person. He moved away and went to live in another state. He cleaned himself up and for years would remain on the right path, but every so often when things would go wrong he would binge. It was one of these binges that took his life 7 years ago.
What I have learned is to live in the midst of death and my one goal is to share that you have to keep going even when you don’t think you can take another step. I compare death to having a part of your body amputated. You are expected to learn how to live without that part of you. I wanted the world to stop for just one moment and to listen to what I needed to say, “My brother who I love with all of my heart has just died. Now my life will never be the same.”
However I got back to work and silently grieved on my own raising two daughters. What I found was that others were praying for me and in my darkest hour I found solace and peace. My brother visited me in my dreams. So vivid were my dreams that I felt his love, his concern, and even him telling me to care for our other sister who also struggles with drugs and alcohol. His gift to me was our memories. From his crazy inventions that were way before our time to our reenactments of Saturday morning WWF wrestling—which is where his boots come in.
After Dan moved away he had the crazy idea of becoming a professional wrestler.
He attended a camp in Denver, adopted a persona and for a short time enjoyed a semi- professional career as Dartanian. The video tape I found in his apartment is of a match he was in. It is all I have left that shows his smile and his larger than life personality, and I am so grateful I have that. In it he is wearing the boots—his wrestling boots.
Afterwards, when my father and I would speak of Dan, he would tell me how much my brother loved me. Fondly recalling Dan’s phone calls saying, “Well guess what Sydney is doing now…”
I think about him every day and I thank God for the short time He gave him to me. I am the only one out of the gang of 5 that made it out. George died of an overdose at the age of 21, Dan died at 33, Scott and Jay still struggle with their addictions. I survived my teens and have two beautiful daughters as my reward. I share my story with those who have lost a loved one and to tell them to persevere even when they think they can’t go on.
Several years ago I heard a story on NPR about a group of girls in Austin who were reviving Roller Derby. I thought to myself, “I could do that.” I was in school and kept telling myself, “As soon as I graduate I’m gonna do that.” And so I did.
I am one of the oldest women in my league of over 100 women. I have made life long friends with women I know will sit next to me when we are old and recount the endless stories that only another derby girl could understand. I have found a second family and they in turn have held me up when I could not do it on my own. For that I am eternally thankful. I have found that if you are human that pain is inevitable. I have tried to comfort my own sisters in derby who have been hit with cancer, lost mothers, fathers, suffered miscarriages—which has made me realize my reason for being a part of this family.
I have since lost my father and my children’s father, yet I keep putting one foot in front of the other. On game days in the locker room I pray for every one of my teammates without their knowledge. And every time I lace up my skates and skate out in front of the crowds and hear my name over the speaker I know my brother and father have a front row seat and I think to myself, “Well look at what Sydney is doing now.”
HAZEL’S SHOE
Anne Buckley
My late mother-in-law, Hazel Buckley, was a delicate yet very determined woman who married a bright young man that blew into Oklahoma from Pennsylvania in the mid-1900’s and swept her off her feet. Just as they set up housekeeping he was whisked off to Europe to fight the Kaiser with an Oklahoma Machine Gun Company.
Undaunted by this unwarranted abandonment Hazel began teaching “expression,” an early form of drama in rural Oklahoma, and survived the war years urging the young ‘uns of Oklahoma to “speak from the diaphragm and stand up straight when reciting.”
News of the Armistice sent Hazel shopping for an exceptional frock to wear when she welcomed her warrior home. She wanted to knock his eyes out with her outfit and bought a grey silk dress, a pair of grey peau de soir pumps with beaded buckles and a saucy hat. She spent her hard earned money in order to look dazzling to her war weary husband. When Jim Buckley returned from the war and got off the train in Tulsa in 1918, he saw his stylish wife and knew he was one lucky dough boy. She looked like a million dollars.
They had many happy years together and were pleased when I married their son Jim. He was in the oil and gas business and moved us to several interesting places in the oil patch until he died. The children and I returned to Dallas and shared many happy times their grandparents. We kept many of their favorite things in a cedar chest after they passed away.
One day I opened the cedar chest and stumbled upon Hazel’s fine peau de soir shoes.I’d forgotten about them and couldn’t believe one shoe was still in good condition with its beaded buckle still in place. It dawned on me there was a sweet story in its sole that needed to be told.
I asked a designer friend of mine to” dress” the shoe in the best finery available. Here is Hazel’s shoe, and as it sits on my bedside table I hear its message that urges us to put our best foot forward, make the best of what ever circumstances surround us and remember that beauty can be found in the most unusual things.
Love Letter to Shoes
Pam Barnes
Dear Beloved High Heels,
For as long I can remember, I have loved you. Actually, it was love at first sight when I first saw you hanging in the toy section rack when I was about three years old. I was SO fascinated with those baby pink plastic heels with the flowers glued on top, and I grabbed you and asked my parents to PLEASE buy you, and I was SO very happy as you rode home with me in my lap! I kept peering in the bag at you, as I could barely wait to get home to rip you out of the package and slip you on my feet! I remember clacking around the house on those hardwood floors pushing my baby doll stroller, pretending to be a real mommy. You and I spent so much quality time together everyday, and eventually I got you in different colors, and even learned to put you on the right foot without any help.
As time passed, I got a real pair of you in patent leather each Easter to match my dress, and my love for you continued to grow. You continued with me through my teenage years….and your heel became a bit higher, and I even became better in walking more lady-like in you. Your escorted me to my proms and school dances, and even helped me to get in the house at night when it was way past my curfew. Your suggestion to take you off and carry you to my bedroom was such a great idea!
You celebrated with me at both my high school and college graduation, to include my wedding, and didn’t get upset with me when I took you off and placed you in corner, as I returned to the dance floor. You patiently waited for me until I picked you up and we drove home together.
You have continued to be with me over the years…..being with me through the thick and the thin. You always lift me up when I am down (no pun intended), you have given me the confidence to walk into a room full of strangers alone and allow me to demand the room, and still today when I cross my legs and look down at you, my heart skips a beat! As with any relationship there have been sometimes that you have hurt me, yet I have learned to carefully select when and where I wear you now to avoid that pain again.
I am SO proud of you when I open up my closet each day and see you in various styles, brands, shapes, and colors, and you are so spontaneous…always ready to accompany me anywhere (as I think it’s because of the compliments you always get)…..you’re such a charmer!
I know I do not tell you as often as I should, but I DO love you with all my heart, mind and soul. I look forward to many more sunrises and sunsets with you, and although we have been together for years, I feel completely assured that the best is yet to come!
Loving You Always…..and Forever,
Pam
Sole Journals
In a recent visit to Alley’s House, for a writing workshop that happens weekly, the young women and I were talking about their previous shoe writing assignment. It was during this discussion that the feelings they uncovered in their writing was so deeply embedded that tears began to fall, words began to echo and past wounds began to heal. I believe this is what they call a “break through” in counseling. After one participant read her touching story another volunteered and another and another until they all had shared a piece of their sole, tears and past. Every week they write about their struggles as teen mothers concerning their shoes-where their shoes have been, what it is like to walk in their shoes and where their shoes are going.
Below is an excerpt from one of their journal entries:
With life comes happiness and sorrow. I believe the biggest challenges are how you deal with the pain and sorrow. I have had many challenges in my life but the biggest has been being a young mother. I became a mother and woman it seems overnight.
At age 17, I had to face these challenges alone. Just as my shoestrings hold my shoe down I too have strings that tie me down. Negative people are my shoe strings, they constantly bring me down. It’s like the saying” misery loves company”, that is so true. You need positive and motivational to encourage you in life. I never really had that in my life.
Even my own family puts me down and criticizes me when I try to better myself and finish my degree. They have never done anything like this and tell me I am wasting my time. The shoe strings in my life are trying to overcome my many challenges while having people who don’t support me. But despite all of the negativity, just like any shoe has a sole, the base of my foundation is my son. My life changed after his birth making me a mother instantly. I plan to be there for him so he can grow into a great young man and father one day. I never really knew what unconditional love exactly felt like until he was born.
I found faith in God, after my son Michael was born. I soon realized God was the only person that I could rely on and trust in my most difficult times. I now walk strong knowing that despite all the strings that hold me back are nothing compared to the strength that I get from the soles of my shoes which is my son, my whole reason for living and fighting!
Write Children, Write!
Inspired by the latest Poetry Reading at the White House I decided to introduce a poetry workshop at one of my weekly meetings with our Community Partners, Alley’s House. The girls were asked to write about their struggles and obstacles as told through their shoes.
I do a weekly workshop with a group of amazingly smart and resilient teenage mothers who are working to finish their GED, while learning to be a first time mother and single parent simultaneously. Between juggling work, classes and the adventures of being a first time mom, many of these girls neither have the time nor energy to sit down and write with me weekly, but yet they still do.
I was especially inspired by Jill Scott’s “Woman Manifesto” and was immediately reminded of these young girls that struggle each moment with finding the balance of being a mother- whose heart no longer belongs to them but to their child’s, confidants- to themselves and their children when they are surrounded by negativity and people that do not support them despite their greatest efforts to care for everyone (aka “Haters” as the girls like to say) and young women- who have embarked on a journey to find her deepest rooted strengths that will lead her to their next opportunity in life and as she develops into an intelligent, strong willed and loving Mother for her children and herself!
I was doubtful that many of them would not have the time or interest, in staying late after their morning classes, to write with me. They surprised me when they did! I realized that through our writing we were united through our daily stuggles, pains-past and present, sorrows as well as our joys and resolute optimism. They each came back because they were free to express all that they could not say or did not have the time to formulate into concrete words. They returned each time to be reunited with themselves as they sat in silence with their thoughts, sorted through their emotions and expressed them through words and imagery free from all the stresses, obstacles but more importantly all the haters! We focus many of our writing prompts around their shoes, dating back from their childhood, adolescence to present day and the many journeys in between. A sample of their writings will be posted in the coming weeks, stay posted!
If you feel like being inspired please take a moment to watch a clip of Jill Scott’s poetry and witness the power behinds words and let it remind us that we are never too young or old to bravely listen to ourselves and translate our thoughts to words. Woman Manifesto
To learn how you can get involved with the great women at Alley’s House, please visit their website at Alley’s House.
Mary Poppins Boots-Contest Runner Up
Stacy Meier
The year I was 28, I left my newspaper job in Dallas to “do the Europe thing.” One of the older, seasoned reporters had stopped by my desk, nodded toward the world map on the wall, and said: “Do it now. Do it before it’s too late.”
Within months of that moment, I was looking out onto autumn countryside from the window of an English bus. Though sleepy from a transatlantic flight, I was anxious about the adventure sure to come. I was wearing my Mary Poppins boots. They were black and tied at the ankles with string. Made of that soft leather that feels as comfy as slippers but that is durable, too, they were poised for motion and ready to step into the Great Unknown.
My older sister and brother had been the braver ones. They’d gone off to colleges out of state and married fairly young. Not me. I’d always stayed near home, never far from my mom’s meat loaf dinners or Rangers games with my dad. Though my parents were my closest friends, they could infuriate me. This was especially true with my dad. He was the Horatio Alger story retold; a man who’d come up poor and built a successful business of his own. With all his enthusiasm and strong opinions, he was often hard to please. As much as I loved him and my mom, I somehow had to crawl out of their nest and prove my independence. When a graduate school in Wales accepted my application, I knew I had to go.
In Britain, my Mary Poppins boots served me well. They gave me speed for catching trains, stability in the frequent rain, traction on the stairs of the old coal miner’s flat where I lived. New friends and I walked everywhere in our university town — back and forth from classes, the launderette, the markets and the pubs. We walked everywhere, day and night, talking and laughing, never tiring out. Surely I wore other shoes in all this walking, but the boots were the shoes I remember wearing most.
That year, I traveled as much as I possibly could. Scenes stand out for me — the crashing waves of Cornwall … a theatre festival in Edinburgh … a white-haired lady tending roses behind a London gate … a Christmas Day in Yorkshire, the loneliest day of the year by far. And that was the year you could say I grew in the way I guess I was supposed to – slipping and drifting a bit but eventually finding my way to confident adulthood, learning a few things about life without any parents to cheer me on.
But even now, more than 20 years later, there’s something I keep remembering that year. I am not sure it has anything to do with adulthood or the Mary Poppins boots. It’s something my sister told me years after I’d come home from Wales.
She and my dad had taken me to the airport the day I left. My dad had brought an extra jacket for me to take though I’d told him I wouldn’t need it. Well, after I’d hugged him and my sister goodbye and disappeared beyond the gate, my dad looked down at the jacket he’d brought for me and he started to cry.
Why is that the most potent memory of all? Is it because “my Europe thing” was as profound to my dad as well as to me? That each meaningful action we take in life affects those who love us more than we can dream? We’re all growing, we’re all trying, and we’re all focused on the great adventure I suppose. All I know from the detail my sister shared about my dad is that I always hugged him tighter after that.
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