Put on Your Red Shoes

I have liked the Facebook pages of a number of shoe emporiums, news that should surprise nobody. One of them once posed a question about red shoes, and one lady remarked what could anyone possibly need with more than one pair of red shoes?

Dear lady, it’s not a question of need, I could have explained to her. It’s desire of course. There is something bewitching, something utterly entrancing about red shoes. I am always attracted to them; they make my heart go pitter-pat, and I own many. Some I have worn to death and sadly had to lay to rest in the trash – unlike poor Moira Shearer in the film The Red Shoes, at least they didn’t dance me to my grave.

There is something bewitching, something utterly entrancing about red shoes …

There were the enchanting three-quarter red boots with little tassels swinging at the sides, and the low-heeled pumps that walked their little soles out for me. I shall always remember them fondly. And how could I forget the strappy cherry-coloured sandals of my childhood that twisted into a knot on top? There is an old photo of me wearing them, dressed up for a family wedding with my hair curled and pleased as punch with my beloved red shoes.

These 40s style raspberry red suede heels are by Wittner, and I bought them last year. I love them so much I wish I had purchased two pairs. The first time I wore them (to view the Grace Kelly exhibition last winter) I was in agony, but I have since worn them in and they are quite comfortable. Comfortable enough to dance in because let’s face it, red shoes are made for just that. David Bowie said so.