Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Shoe Love

It is our last week here. I admit I had grand plans for this weeks of blog posts, grand plans that didn't accommodate for packing, fabulous family visits, last minute must go do things, and of course the first week of school back in AZ and a rather steady stream of emails and virtual meetings. Needless to say the blog posts haven't happened. More disappointing is not having caught up this week with the two women and their children who Ila and I have made friends with. I'm hopeful that we will before we leave. I'm also hopeful that if I keep these short I'll get the last little bits of experience down.

Image shamelessly borrowed from the Salvatore Ferragamo Shoe Museum
We did pop into the Salvatore Ferragamo Shoe Museum, that our friend B recommended, with my Aunt and Uncle (Happy Anniversary to them). The very sharply dressed man at the front desk looked decidedly non-plussed at our attire and the wild two and half year old tugging at my arm. Despite his frosty welcome, we thoroughly enjoyed the shoe love. From bizarre to exsquite this museum is a very polished and appealing display to lovers of shoes and even for those of us not so into heels etc. Ila actually had a glorious time picking out the shoes she liked and the colors. I'd definitely recommend a visit. For five euros it is worth a stop.


  1. I swear I have a photo of me, in 1972 at at age 5, wearing a pair of shoes very much like the ones pictured here, minus the heel. They were from Thom McAn, and every few months when my mom took me shoe shopping, I wanted the same pair, just larger. I will show you the photo when you return. I still love that shoe!


  2. please say you aren't disappearing when you return?

  3. Ahhhh, shucks Kate. I'm back in the US, a couple of posts to post from just after a week ago...not sure about after that, but thanks.

    Melissa, I want to see that picture!

  4. I'm going to look for it today. It's a photo that became a family legend, with my brother looking like Keith Partridge's wardrobe threw up on him except absolutely NOTHING he is wearing matches and it all is of questionable taste, his hair is too long and he is biting his nails, while I sit next to him, perfectly groomed in a frilly pink and white dress, poised with my hands folded on my lap, along with ankle socks and those multi-colored shoes. This was 1972, after all. And to top it all, there we are, two Jewish kids, sitting on Santa's lap. The '70s were strange times, indeed. :-)