![]() Should I get a wrap dress? My mum tells me that all grown women should have one and I recently turned 21.īless you and your mother's well-intentioned hearts. And if that horse should flash some red on the bottom of his hoofs as he canters into the distance, Christian, I'd take it up with TP-T. The thought of Tara staying in on a Friday night and nail polishing her shoes brings sunshine to my heart sometimes, it truly does.) Louboutin has done his best to stop this rot, filing for copyright and what have you, but it's all gone a bit stable door, horse bolted. (Tara Palmer-Tomkinson, meanwhile, classy to the hem of her min-kilt, once advised painting one's high-street shoes' soles with red nail polish to get Louboutin on the cheap. ![]() Some cheeky monkeys on both the high street and (gasp!) up in Designer Land have noticed this and have started slapping red soles on their shoes. You see, Charlotte, the red sole is Mr Louboutin's signature detail, which not only ups the shoe's sexiness quotient (I have no idea, nor interest in psychoanalysing, how a glance of a red sole on a lady's shoe is sexy it just is), but it also works as branding without stooping to anything as obvious as declasse as a logo. Which brings us neatly to the next point – the frequency with which you see the red sole. Who needs to spend money on advertising when you can get celebrity endorsements for free? This kind of endorsement will, as Mr Blahnik will no doubt verify, only make Monsieur Louboutin more successful than he already is. You know it, folks: " Ask Hadley: First with the international news stories." Eat my DUST, Christiane Amanpour! ![]() So as you can see, there was a niche that needed filling, and that niche was sexy-but-not-slutty-shoes-that-cost-almost-if-not-more-than-half-a-grand-that-you-can-barely-walk-in.Īnd I can bring you EXCLUSIVE news that in the upcoming and pretty-much-guaranteed-to-be-awful Sex and the City movie, Carrie has jettisoned her famous "Manolos" in favour of "Louboutins". Here's the sitch: Louboutins are sexier than Manolos without being quite as trashy as Choos (nor as downright slutty as Gina, but not as artistic as Nicholas Kirkwood, nor as elegant as Rupert Sanderson, and not as flattering as Jonathan Kelsey). What it actually is about is the rise of a fancy-pants shoe label, Christian Louboutin, which is part of the Manolo Blahnik/Jimmy Choo/Christian Louboutin holy shoe triptych (or Bermuda triangle, depending on how much horror the concept of paying over £400 for a pair of shoes inspires in your breast, Charlotte). ![]()
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