Tango Shoes: The Agony and the Ecstasy

Facing the approaching need to retire my custom-made shoes from Buenos Aires--which, though not entirely falling apart yet, are starting to show definite signs of wear, seeing as I've worn them nearly constantly for three years now, my true tango workhorses--and unable at the moment to return to BsAs to do some serious shoe-shopping or to visit my cobbler in person (and also dance, but whatever), I've been searching the web high and low for months, for worthy successors.

But nothing I've seen has really inspired me in ages. Nothing has jumped out at me and said "You've got to have me!" Not even any Comme Il Fauts* and certainly not any of the more solid, padded options that I prefer to wear for classes and so on--more everyday shoes. And what's the point of spending the kind of money you need for good tango shoes that you plan to wear frequently if you don't love them?

Part of the problem has been that what I really wanted was exact replicas of my own shoes. I'm like that about good clothes that I like and that work well for me; I generally just want to keep wearing exactly that forever and never have to worry about it again if I don't choose to.

(For example, if I could afford it, I'd buy a warehouse full of my favorite jeans in every likely size in case of gaining or losing weight, and never have to go jeans-shopping and struggle with cut, color, length, rise-height, etc., etc., ever again! Ah, but a girl can dream!)

Having duplicates made by the same cobbler in Buenos Aires would be possible but not very easy; I've had trouble before with the practicalities of trying to get shoes from them to me in the States.

Finally the other day I thought I'd found The Ones to replace my red custom pair (my Ferraris, I fondly call them). The new pair actually made my heart skip a beat when I saw them--the first time I've been really excited about any potential replacements since I'd begun the search. Although I wanted a few modifications, the site advertized the ability to customize, and I even came up with a back-up plan based on another of their styles, in case it was not possible to adjust that particular model the way I'd like.

Them, I knew. Those are the ones that I want. (It should always be so easy to know that a lover is right for you! But that's another conversation.) They glowed, in true lipstick-red patent leather with suede accents, like Dorothy's Ruby Slippers. The styling was pure Old Hollywood elegance. Beautifully and femininely detailed without being at all overstated, I could picture wearing them with almost everything I own for dancing, from jeans to my best formal dresses.

I had it bad for these shoes.**

When I wrote to inquire, biting my nails with anticipation, I got a very polite response the next day ... that the company is currently on a hiatus of indeterminate length.

I nearly cried. "But ... but my shoes! Those! I want those!"

I've realized that in addition to being quite picky about my tango shoes to start with--I want this heel height, not too low or too high; the heel should be solid enough for comfort but not at all clunky; I like peep toes for sexiness with some protection; I need good padding under the ball of the foot, or room to add my own; and the shoes must have some interest about them without being overly flashy--I quite like being able to have shoes that are, if not completely unique like my custom-made ones, at least a little unusual. Not just character shoes (with very little actual character) from the local dance supply shop.

Not that there's anything wrong with very basic dance shoes, especially if you're just starting out and don't know whether you want to make a big investment. How many beautiful and expensive pairs of CiFs languish in the closets of novice tangueras who bought them early on but gave up tango within the first year? Such a waste; let's hope they all go to good homes through eBay or the like.

But after these nearly seven years of dancing, it's not too much to say that my tango shoes have come to be a means of self-expression, reflections of myself, the things I value, and the way I want to dance.

That's the most personal part of why I want them to be comfortable, elegant, and of high quality; I want all those things in myself and in my dancing. And I want to be able to pick them out in a crowd the way I hope my loved ones could pick me out--my face, my voice, the things I might say.***

I think that's the real reason why I fell so hard for those red shoes: Because they looked like me, who I am on the inside--or at least who I want to be.

For now, I've tried to console myself with a quite different pair from another maker, in black. They weren't such a coup de foudre as the gorgeous red ones, but I do like the look of them very much. They seem to fit all my requirements with no design modifications, right down to the heel shape and height, along with subtle but attractive detailing. I hope they'll be good for me.****

So the quest for new red ones must simply continue. Alas, the course of shoe love never did run smooth!
 

TL;DR: OMG, SHOES! (Again. Still. Forever.)


* Maybe it's partly overexposure, with regard to Comme il Fauts: I regularly get e-mails from various distributors, and I wonder, sometimes, whether the brand can maintain their image of daring and unique sexiness forever when there's been such a lot of demand for them. Might the brand have jumped the shark, or is it rather that I've grown calloused from seeing so many of them? Or could it be true what I've heard, that maybe they don't let distributors sell their very best designs, keeping them for the store in Buenos Aires? (Which would be understandable...) But the human capacity for creativity is very great, and I'm very fond of my CiF babies, so I certainly hope the brand will be going strong for a long time to come!

** The final factor, of course, and not the least important, is comfort, and that you can't know until you try the shoes out. Of necessity, my love for the red beauties was born from looks alone. But immortal sonnet sequences have been written with as much grounds!

*** There's an element of competition involved too, but it's an ugly thing that I don't want to get too mired in. But I'd be lying if I tried to pretend it wasn't there.

**** Why do I always seem to fall for unattainable shoes and men? With these shoes, I move from a grand passion that perhaps burns too brightly to last long (ah, cruel fate!) to (hopefully) a happy, stable relationship with a good, solid, handsome pair that I'm sure will be excellent providers and good parents. 

...Did I just take that metaphor too far?

Tango shoes on a non-tango blog

It appears that the superfantastic Plumcake, one of the writers of the Manolo for the Big Girl blog, enjoyed at least a brief flirtation with tango--or, anyway, with tango shoes, and apparently at some point with a tango instructor--some time ago.

"Holy Grail Found in Buenos Aires!"

"Two Thursdays ago found me on my knees with my head in the oven," she begins. (A tango-spirited opener if ever I've seen one!)

I wonder whether she ever pursued that interest.

I really don't find my tango shoes all that comfortable for much regular walking around--you know, firmly on my whole foot and forward-moving--but I strongly suspect that Ms. Plumcake is made of sterner stuff than I, where everyday footwear is concerned. She posts recommendations of many shoes that, although they are lovely and (I'm sure) fine for women who are practiced in the art of wearing high heels, I (a novice) quail at the thought of wearing for any length of time. (I'm looking--longingly--at you, Tiffany-blue fourth ones down! The Kate Spades are gorgeous and not much higher than my CIFs... but still a scary idea to me. Those little Mary Janes, now... But all of this is academic at the moment, as the budget is a little tight.)

I also wonder how many women are drawn to tango by the shoes. Conversely, I have been drawn to shoes by tango.

In related news, a friend who I helped introduce to tango a while ago just bought her first pairs of made-for-tango shoes! In red and black, and leopard print! She called from the festival in Nearby City to tell me, immediately after the purchase, and we rejoiced together.

*Sniffle* I'm so proud! I can't wait to see her dance in them; she says they feel great!

OMG, shoes!

Oh, drat. While I was fondly browsing the Dress-Up Lady's shoe site last night, I ran across a gorgeous pair of CiFs that are sorely tempting me. My size; my heel height; black with white polka dots, and red patent leather--of course, since they're CiFs, all arranged in a very striking design. WANT.

I just have to keep repeating to myself that I already have a lovely pair of wonderful red and black shoes (one of my handmade pairs, which I call my Ferraris), and anyway, I do not need to be splurging on tango shoes of any description, at the moment.

Not even these, by Tara Tango, which I kind of want just for everyday, even:

 

Yes, Tara! They are the shoes I want for summer fun! Just looking at these shoes conjures up visions of the entire life I would like to lead--if I were independently wealthy and had nothing better to do every day than dine in the finest restaurants, wearing floaty cotton dresses and very wide-brimmed hats, before going out for another round of shopping. (Ha!) Somehow, I very much want to believe, these shoes, yes, they will make all of that happen! And that is really their greatest attraction for me. Behold, the power of shoes...

(One of the biggest problems with these is simply deciding what colors I'd want where! I lo-ove that stripe, but I don't think I'd want it all over... It's almost more fun just to imagine the different possibilities.)

I will cry whenever I check back and find that the CiFs have been sold, though. I mean it; I will probably literally shed a few disappointed tears--at least, I will pout a little, like a spoiled child--even though it is probably the best thing for me, right now.

(I have shoes on the brain so badly right now that this morning in church, instead of "he shall place your foes under your feet," I read it as "he shall place your shoes under your feet." What a good thing I wasn't a lector!)

L'histoire de mes Comme il Fauts

Comme il Faut shoes, sometimes called the Manolo Blahniks of tango...



 I.

About one year into my tango career, I went to a festival in a nearby city where some shoe and clothing vendors were set up. One of them was highly recommended by my friend and frequent traveling companion, L. She'd had an excellent experience buying from them online--and she just adored the pair of Comme il Fauts that she had bought from them.

(It was not Julia Bella, whose video showcase of shoes I've linked above, although I've no doubt she also provides fine service.)

So when we went to Nearby City, L and I were both very excited to get to browse this vendor's selection of CiFs in person. I was dubious of my ability to walk on their famously slender stiletto heels, but, hey, it's free to look, right?

I decided to play dress-up: "Could I please try on your very sexiest pair of size eight Comme Il Fauts?" I asked the vendor, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the array of styles, brands, and sizes.

She laughed. "Bad-girl shoes, size eight, hm? Let me see..."

She disappeared among the stacks and returned with, as I recall, a pair of purple and black creations with four-inch heels and a double ankle strap. Bad-girl shoes indeed!

I could barely stand up in them. But as I wobbled to the mirror to examine the effect, I had to admit, they certainly made my legs and feet look good. And by "good," I mean "sexy as hell." They were hot.

I didn't buy anything that night, but when it was time to buy a pair of "real tango shoes," I remembered how cheerfully the vendor had let me play with her stock, and I made sure to purchase from her (a different brand, with a much lower, more solid--less intimidating--heel).

Although I'd had fun, I had taken away the impression that I could not handle the famous CiF heel. I would think of them with regret over the next few years. Too bad I can't wear those sexy shoes...

II.

When L and I went to Buenos Aires last summer--the ultimate tango-traveling adventure, which I was very happy to be able to share with her--one of our few fixed destinations was the Comme il Faut showroom. L needed to make the pilgrimage to pay homage to the makers of her favorite shoes--and to stock up.

I was less enthusiastic on my own behalf, since I had this mental block about their shoes, though I was excited for L. Mostly I was interested in the experience of it. And, oh, it is an experience indeed...