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Fantasy Footwork

As I checked on my e-mail accounts one day this week I also took the time to peruse some of the stories posted on the Yahoo! website.  The one that really caught my attention was titled, “Cinderella Shoe Trend:  DSW, Louboutin Take on Princess Heels.”  Judging by the comments at the end of the article, women will be hot-footing it to DSW and October 1 when the “Glass Slipper Collection” becomes available.  This glitzy line of “evening and wedding” shoes has been cobbled together by the discount shoe retailer in collaboration with the fantasy-minded folks at Disney.

The shoes, to range in price from $59.95 to $89.95 (or roughly $60-$90), are designed to attract fashion-conscious women who prefer the “crystal adornments, glitter, lace, ruffles, and studs now the norm in upscale footwear.”  Studs?  Is that what makes the cost of the similar Marc Jacobs ($595) and Christian Louboutin (estimated to be $6400) Cinderella slippers so expensive?  Buy the shoes and they throw in some hunky, coordinating stud as a bonus to escort you to the ball?  Wow!  By that standard Cinderella’s fairy godmother was a real piker.


Real Women Need Combat Boots

Rhapsodizing on the new trend, Robert Oberschelp, Director for Disney Consumer Products, said the “Glass Slipper Collection” taps into “the childhood affinity women have for this beloved character [Cinderella] while creating footwear that is relatable to their lives as adults.”

Huh?  Well, maybe.  But, as an adult I don’t relate to Cinderella all that much.  I have to deal with real life:  a mortgage, taxes, West Nile virus warnings—and I still mop my own floors and scoop up the poop in the back yard.

What’s more, I can’t say there’s anyone I know who could—or would—pay that much for a wear-once-only pair of shoes, hunky stud included or not.  In today’s economy it’s more likely the shoe boxes are what we can afford to strap to our feet.

Still, if Cinderella is your thing, go for it.  Given my recent fender-bender, though, the most I can hope for is some mice to haul me around in a pumpkin until my car gets out of the body shop.


© 2012, The Wit’s End Scribbler

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