This is Me*, Then
*in shoes
*in shoes
When Jennifer Lopez released “This Is Me, Then,” her third studio album, which was dedicated to and uber swoon-y about Ben Affleck (sample lyrics: “You will always be … my lust, my love, my man, my child, my friend and my king … God made you for me”), I remember reading that Ben helped her name the album. The idea was that she could look back, years later, with kids or whatever, pick up the album and say “This is me, then.” After the Big Bennifer Breakup, I wondered if he suggested this title knowing they weren’t a forever thing, giving her a way to frame lyrics that he knew would be really …oogy to look back on.
At various points in my life, I’ve thought, “I’ve got this resolved,” when it comes to shoes. But alas, those moments have proven … really oogy to look back on. In 11th grade when I decided tasseled Bass Weejuns with everything were “THE ANSWER.” My 20s uniform of Ralph Lauren blanket skirt, turtleneck and a green suede Joan and David loafer with a small heel. And green tights. #martianchic? (Cringe.) My 30s and early 40s when I spent virtually every waking moment in heels, including rubber Sigerson Morrison pool flip flops (okay I still have the orange pair) and a collection of teetery Tributes, all of which has left me with bunions and occasional nightmares that are just a feeling of unidentifiable … tottering.
In the last couple of years, though, once again (kind of like when J-Lo married Marc Anthony and had kids) I thought I had the answer. Pointy-toed flats elongate the leg! Kitten heels give a walkable boost! And sneakers! Sneakers are here, so … done.
But because of a confluence of things, I’m rethinking my shoe game again at 50. It’s jarring. What looked right before … mostly doesn’t look right now. The 3 things, I think, are 1) Trinny Woodall. (That Brit has turned by life upside down, I tell you.) 2) The return of the designer Teva-style sandal. Who remembers when Gucci first did a red/green webbed Teva spin, around 2000? I saved up for that. And wore it … with orange toe nails for some reason. But now the Chanel dad sandal on every blogger ever has sucked me back in. 3) The state of my feet after my endless heel-wearing and five mile walking days. Not to be unkind to myself; this is purely factual. Toe box like the abominable snowman. Aforementioned bunions. Ankles my mom once called “Beckerman ankles.” A reference to the side of the family that — wait a minute — has no females on it! I’m going to instead call them “sturdy.”
The Trinny Lessons
Let’s start with what I picked up from Trinny:
That little pointy toe peeking out of a wide pant leg can look … odd. Like a small, random piece of pizza. (Suddenly things feel different to my eye now. Probably like Marc Anthony did, I’m guessing.)
An ankle boot is more flattering if it ends under the ankle bone. The spot where an ankle boot hits is key, especially if it’s a stiffer version (versus a sock boot). And, I’d add that an ankle boot with a wide mouth helps ankles look smaller by comparison; that’s where I do like a taller boot with a dress sometimes.
In general, a more substantive shoe flatters those whose legs are non-dainty (think: chunky, coverage, not dainty, substantial heel, platform or wedge).
Sneakers or brogues (especially white or metallic) make things look fresher + younger. Less try-hard and on the nose. Especially at 50+ when ladylike starts to feel unironic.
Not all sneakers are created equal. A sneaker with more to it — more substance, thicker heel, maybe even a platform — sometimes works better than your Stan Smiths, Phoebe Philo notwithstanding.
Pants fall better (and are more elongating) over a round toe shoe. You want them to pool, not break, with that roundness covered nicely by the fabric.
It’s weird to see a spindly heel peeking out of pants, especially pants that aren’t cuffed/cropped so it feels intentional. Better to see the straight line along the sole of a wedge or sneaker. (Second choice, a very thick heel.)
Soles can really do something for an outfit. Trinny likes a super high Stella McCartney sandal with a sneaker-looking bottom. So you get the casual look of wearing a sneaker under a wide leg pant. Another example: I have a sneaker I don’t love but the sole is leopard. It looks great with long pants where you just see that sole when you walk and I don’t want a stark white sole peeking out.
Things with holes in them elongate. Actually, Trinny said this in the context of belts. If you put a thick belt over a dress, it cuts it (and you) into 2. If the belt has holes in the design so you can see the fabric of the dress through it, your eye reads it as a continuous line. I’ve figured out that the same is true of shoes. If you can see some skin though, it has less of a leg shortening effect. Hence why I was drawn to reprehensibly priced combat boots with a mesh effect and also these vintage Manolos, a Holy Grail I originally spotted on an Olsen and sussed out on Ebay for $80.
Those Dad Sandals
Yes, I succumbed to the dad sandals. I didn’t exactly understand why, but now I know.
Like Trinny’s sneakers, they make everything look less try-hard and less girlie. Long shorts. A suit. A poufy dress. In fact, poufy dress + dad sandal is for me a uniform that always works.
Ladylike shoes feel too on-the-nose for me now, like lady-like clothing. I feel better in something tougher and more mannish, less expected and serious.
I like the substance of the dad sandals. They’re grounded and meaty and thick versus frail and dainty — it’s a better match for the Beckerman ankles.
I’m tired of slipping out of shoes. On these the velcro holds me in.I t’s also adjustable, front and back, so my feet are never pinched. I can’t keep smushing my feet in front.
The state of my (and maybe your) feet.
I have a friend whose feet are hot. Damsel in Dior’s feet are hot. My feet are not hot, and I’m ok with that, all things considered. We’ve had a life. They’ve supported and stood by me. But now I want shoes for my REAL feet. Not some vision of what I might wish for them to be.
Slingbacks do not and never will work on me. I have tried oh so many times. The back part slips when I walk and will forever. No.
2. Dainty flats are a no-go. I like a shoe with coverage and substance. I never thought about that much before. If it got on and was relatively comfortable, I was good. But a dainty flat with a wide-ish opening makes me look smushed, wedged in, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Sometimes you see part of the bunion. I hate the whole thing. Like a shoe that’s working really hard. This design is also too … lady. No. I’m getting rid of these. The couple pairs I’m holding onto I will only wear with pants. I bet I’ll let them go soon enough, too, honestly. I want to stick with sneakers and brogues, platforms, shoes with some oomph.
3. About those kitten heels... I just got rid of a pair I had once thought were perfection. And it’s 3 things. 1. The heel shape. A cone shape 55 mm can look cool to me. (It’s a favorite Saint Laurent last.) But when it’s spindly, I get that feeling that all this foot is resting on something too flimsy, that unwanted comparison of stuffed front and skinny back. And 2. the coverage in front (I need full coverage) and 3. the style itself (needs to have something cool/fresh about it). This is a good kitten heel — and you can find the same last on eBay. This is a non-kitten that checks every box. (Not price. Alas.)
4. I’m kiboshing uncomfortable shoes. The other day I put on a pair of flat laceups I loved with my dress but I was uncomfortable walking around the block with my parents. I sold them and bought these instead, which I can walk forever in, and have that same borrowed-from-the-boys feel and freshness with the dress. I have one pair of uncomfortable heels because they are so beautiful and different. I’m hoping to wear them to dinner one night. And another that look like art that I want to have put in a lucite box at some point. But that’s it.
So this is me, then. I’d like to think that since I’m braver and know my true self better now, maybe I’ve finally found my A-Rod or at least a few lasting solemates. How about you?