Writing just now about the Louis Vuitton x Grace Coddington collab called Catogram, inspired me to reflect on my mouse shoes and their Manhattan intersection with a so-called master of the universe.
On this epic voting day in America, we have 1) a chance to smash rudeness, lies and white nationalism in the face in a blow to Donald Trump; 2) to stand for feline truth. You ALWAYS know where you stand with a cat, and there is no such thing as emotional fakery; and 3) love for humanity with a devoted dog who has your back.
While America is a nation with many faults, today will tell the world whether or not America still has a soul. Is she really the nation of promise I’ve fought for all these years, or does she have a fundamentally racist, angry, white nationalist, cold and frozen heart.
America’s true values are on the ballot today, so let me share a smile-worthy moment with a New York man with a heart — unlike Trump’s empty tin can contraption that keeps him alive, but has never in life had a real tuneup.
A Master of the Universe Meets My Parisian Mouse Shoes by Anne Aug. 11, 2011
These ‘Smoking Cat Wedges’ come from London-based luxury accessories designer Charlotte Olympia. Mine were mice. I bought them in Paris during the 80s, and I positively adored them. My mice shoes were fully fitted with eyes, whiskers and tails.
Wearing them on the sidewalks of New York, I knew my mouse tails weren’t long for this world. A sensible woman would have kept her Parisian mouse shoes for special occasions, but mine were pounding the pavement in days. Within weeks, one tail was AWOL.
Whose NYC Sidewalk Is This?
I have a major pet peeve with aggressive men in New York. You know the guy — he walks in the wrong direction on your side of the sidewalk, assuming that you will get out of his way, in order to avoid a major collision. It usually works, and women not only defer but say ‘I’m sorry’ as a Manhattan master of the universe mows the little people down.