On Nov. 6 Election Day, Anne Hopes Cat & Dog Shoes Lovers Land A Knockout Punch On Trump

Louis Vuitton x Grace Coggington Catogram collection mixes with resort 2019.

Louis Vuitton x Grace Coggington Catogram collection mixes with resort 2019.

EYE: Animal Lovers Are On The Prowl at Catogram From Louis Vuitton x Grace Coddington

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

‘Smoking Cat Wedges’ by Charlotte Olympia

‘Smoking Cat Wedges’ by Charlotte Olympia

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.

Men also get right on your backside in New York, not physically pushing you to walk faster like in Hong Kong. But men are sometimes as close to you as they can get without sexual contact, subconsciously pushing you to move it.

This was my case on this gorgeous sunny day in New York, when a master of the universe was bearing down on me. We were entering a crowd and I slowed down to avoid falling into them, causing the master to clip my shoes from behind, as he fell into me. Eureka!

To his credit, this 30s guy in a suit apologized but I had other plans for him. ‘My shoes,’ I screamed in mock horror, turning to face him and looking down at the pavement. ‘My tail, where is my tail. You ripped it off my mouse shoes. These are my favorite shoes, and you have destroyed them.’

He was dumbfounded, and I managed not to laugh. ‘Where is it?’ I demanded. ‘Find my mouse tail. I bought my shoes in Paris for several hundred dollars. Now find that tail.’

You must understand that we were surrounded by rush hour pavement-pounders in every direction. There was no way he could look for my tail. Yet I held him still on his way to Grand Central, prepared to at least make him miss his train to Greenwich and wait 20 minutes for the next one. Because he walked on my own feet and backside — which move at lightening speed as it is — he needed a timeout, and I was determined to give it to him.

To his credit, my master of the universe did at least look at the pavement in futility.

Today, the same guy would probably say ‘get out of the way, bitch’, but in the 80s women like me used a certain amount of power over men when they were bad boys. Yes, a degree of deceit was involved in my protest, but on the fast-paced pavement of New York, a strong woman must think creatively.

{Update}: Let the female owners of mouse shoes, and these too fab shoes Louis Vuitton x Grace Coddington Catogram gems unite, as we take on the patriarchy with any and all means possible. If whiskers and a bit of lost mouse tail help to turn the tide, them we will employ any and all means possible to tell Donald Trump in plain English: “You’re fired!!”

You said that the election is all about you. Well, let’s pray to all the goddesses that women and men with real, beating hearts and a love for humanity are about to deliver you a simple message that even YOU can understand, Trump. We can’t totally fire you until 2020, but today we can deliver a major knockout to your smug, egotistical, self-consumed love affair with yourself. Even cats and dogs are on our side!!

Louis Vuitton x Grace Coddington ‘Catagram’ Collection