Paris: What’s With the Bloody Butch Shoes?!!

Perhaps the true sign of recession rests close to the ground, in what’s covering the feet. To judge from the top dogs of the latest Paris collections, we’re braced for dire times indeed.  Alexander “Lee” McQueen appears to have gone print happy, not just the vomit route which I’ve often noted in other designers, but more akin to artist Matthew Barney’s the Cremaster Cycle. It proved great artistry for Barney in his I dare you to ingest these grotesque visions on screen, but on a catwalk…. Please bring in the toreador to kill these off! Chanel’s Karl Lagerfeld turned out some specimens of coquette toffee, but what’s with the clogs? Ditto for the footwear  at Louis Vuitton: feathered boots for young bulls, not glam girls. At Chloe, beyond boring minimal clothes, the leg warmers and grounded sandals fell flat as well. Only Galliano stuck with some disco platforms and fantasy! Chanel wins my heart in romance, but Karl, please  burn those cloghoppers. MERCI! xoxo

**Cremaster: concerning Barney’s groundbreaking five part exhibit and film the Cremaster Cycle, I found two definitions of the cremaster muscle: 1.) the muscle associated but not actually related to the height of the gonads during sexual differentiation in the womb. 2.) the muscle that determines the height of the human testes in response to such stimulus as cold and fear but beyond conscious control

**Mozart continuously referred to Paris audiences as “oxen.” Perhaps this could explain the shoes.

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