Shoe Boots from Prada’s Fall 2011 ready-To-Wear Collection.
Photo: Courtesy of Style.com/Net-a-Porter
AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA *deep breath* BWWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA. ZOMG *wipes eyes* You guys. Is this happening? Did I dream this so I could have theeee perfect post for this morning’s “Let’s Discuss”? I mean, this is brilliant, right? Did some saboteur slip on Miuccia’s whole body skin and wig to gallop into her work area to scrawl what they thought to be the FUNNIEST most FUGLIEST also, let’s face it, RACISTIEST shoe ever on the magical notebook dedicated to FINAL PRODUCTION IDEAS? (Right? That’s how shoe-boots get born? They’re drawn in crayon on the gilded Moleskine that gets sent to the cobbler factory straightaway to be faithfully executed without any checks or balances, just a line drawing?)
So much going on here. First of all, the Mary Jane itself? GAHROSS. The dead-leg sheen that’s uniform on both the shoe and the shin is so freaky. The stout, leather-covered heel. The cartoon button. The entire thing that looks like a prosthesis and like it would be cold to the touch. The weird elasticky seam in the front. The pull-on stretchy zigzag seam on the top. What is happening? Prada is a clever woman, and I can’t help but think this is a publicity stunt of some sort. Or some meme-baitish trope. Whoa. I just kinda blew my mind. Remember the story about The Red Shoes. Where the chick somethingsomethingSHOES and couldn’t stop dancing, and then the woodcutter had to CUT OFF HER LEGS so that the demonic heels that had possessed her feet would finally let her rest? Maybe these shoes are a metaphor for temptation and vanity and being careful what you wish for and… and… Man, I have no idea. I’m just thoroughly entertained because these bishes are disgusting. You can see the rest of the collection here, but for sure these “flesh” (a way-more-subjective term than these presume) colored ones are my disgustofaves. SOOOO GOOOD.
P.S. Oh, and (nerd alert but) everybody reeeeeelax if they want to talk surrealism and invoke Schiaparelli. This ain’t that.