The Red Shoes
a case for beauty, craftsmanship and art
While in Vienna last October, I sipped Einspanner every afternoon and worked on my manuscript (thinking I was finished). I am still working on it. Ha!
Today, I am sitting in the comfort of home with my furry friends. Because I've had the chance to experience Europe (and Vienna) on numerous occasions, some rituals I loved there are now, here. Like: afternoon coffee.
In the older countries, there is a clear value of relaxation, beauty and pleasure expressed in rituals of coffee, the dominance of civilized informed discourse, cultural events, artwork, and collective holidays taken out to nature. I'm likely preaching to the choir, but all this makes the US feel so...erm... young.
Anyhow, here I am in our Vienna flat, last year, with my new red shoes.
These shoes have a story. I figured Venus-day would be a fine time to tell you.
***
One day, biking down a cobblestone street, I saw a delicious looking shoe shop unlike anything we have here. I pulled over, parked my city-supplied bike (so civilized!) and popped in for a look. I spotted these ballet shoes, the last ones, in my size. That's why the proprietor of the shop told me their story:
One weekend, he went deep into the Italian forest to find a mythical -and, turns out, actual- ballet shoemaker. He intended to pick up some shoes for his shop, and made a trip all the way to Italy with nothing but an address. So, he arrives, and a very old woman who resembles a fairytale witch answers the door, and unspeaking-ly motions him down to a dark basement. At this point, miles away from anyone, he tells me he fears he may be in an actual horror movie. Arriving in the basement, instead he sees an old shoemaker (‘he must’ve been nearing one-hundred’) making BALLET SHOES BY HAND!
The proprietor stops here for effect.
'This is one-of-a kind', says the proprietor to me, showing me the underside of these fine leather shoes, which have tiny little nails in them. 'And I feared he may die soon… so I bought 90 pair. And this is the last pair.'
Of course… I had to buy the red ballet shoes!
Plus, have you ever seen the RED SHOES ballet? I have. It's a fascinating parable. Living in Hawaii, I've had maybe two occasions to wear them since then, but this is the stuff that makes life fun.
And it’s the kind of stuff that only happens in Europe.
So, this October, while John jet sets to Morocco (!) I'm home. And I am so grateful for all of my experiences, which I get to relive, savor and share.
❤