Pair #8- Foreign Rights

Munoz Vrandecic. Say that ten times fast. According to some not entirely trustworthy web-tel, these are named after the husband and wife team who make them, by hand. He's a professor of Architecture, and she's an artist. Everything is all natural, handmade, etc. And they live in Spain. Don't you hope that's true as much as I do? It's a romantic story.

They probably should have ended up on Ebay. They are the meanest, sharpest shoes in my closet. That beautiful upper has no give, and the gorgeous straps and hardware bite my shins. I have worn them only once. On that occasion I recieved the worst blisters known to man. My feet were in tatters for days, and I was relegated to sock and sneakers in deepest darkest August.

Yet I keep them. Because these, to me, are more art then shoe. And besides the wonderful details, like the gold hardware and wooden heels, they also smell great. Piney, like a damp forest with a hint of leather. And I got them on sale. Of course.

So they sit in my closet, taking up space. But don't they look nice? I do dream about wearing them, and when I do, I am fierce. A predator in short shorts, and a sharp button down, clomping down the streets of Manhattan, in search of prey.