Monday, December 12, 2011

Of Cowpies, Fryes, and Dyes

In a 2009 post Madame Shock did what she does best (pish posh, dahlings, no tittering, it's ONE of the things she does best): buying Louboutins for half-price and dyeing them to fit her fancy.

Madame Chausseurs - sorely put out by a victory on her own territoire - sniffed that c'est tres simple bien sur to dye suede, but leather is a whole different animal (yes, technically the same animal, but treated differently and...well, we digress...).  

Shhhh, it's pigskin...
It just so happened that Madame Chic had been shopping at that very moment.  Yes, imagine - shopping!  Standing in a tiny boutique in a tinier Wyoming town she was desperate for some very tall footwear to separate her dainty soles from the omnipresent muddy, mottled, gray-brown muck.  Madame had been blissfully enjoying a secret rendezvous on a private ranch until her dire lack of sturdy chausseurs began to threaten the romance. 


Never one to throw away a man for lack of appropriate footwear, she had located acceptable - cute, even - Frye platform kiltie brogues in the only boutique in town but - quelle horreur! - the only remaining pair taunted her from the shelf in a muddy, mottled gray-brown the precise shade of the very muck she was desperate to avoid. 

But what to do?  And what to do vite vite, before another Cowpie-in-the-Peeptoes debacle ruined another romantic, candlelight dinner in a private tent on the pampas (or whatever the term is for amber waves of grain that hide cowpies from unsuspecting fashionistas)?  The suspense! The drama! But never fear...we would never leave Madame Chic stranded with date pains in the great plains as fate reigns ... 

Everything always comes back to Audrey...
Oh, excuse nous, s'il vous plait ...the Mesdames got sidetracked in a little My Fair Lady reverie just at the exciting point in the story!  What did Madame Chic do to rescue her romance and her pieds?!  She called Madame Shock right on the spot (well, technically not on the spot, because super-secret ranches in tiny Wyoming towns get simply PAS de cell reception, but we'll skip that part of the story...).  And after a quick trip to the drugstore down the street and a purchase of one bottle of black shoe polish...voila!  You'd never know they were anything other than standard, reassuring, big-city-girl black, n'est pas?


Perfectly Un-Cowpie Black

No comments:

Post a Comment