Archive for October, 2007


Fluevog Sighting: Freaky Friday

October 11, 2007

Question: If you were the costume designer for a perenially remade movie about a mother-daughter body-switch, and you needed to costumically signify rebellious teenager in middle-aged body, would you look anywhere except John Fluevog?  (Then again, if you were a costume designer and therefore spending someone else’s dime, would you ever look anywhere except John Fluevog?)

In this suprisingly entertaining ‘romp’, the always fabulous Jamie-Lee Curtis, the temporarily fabulous Lindsay Lohan, and the, well, Chad Michael Murray, share the stage with the Lily Darling, the Bond Girl, and the red interlaced Couture Vog with forgotten name.  Jamie-Lee as Lindsay, let loose with her mother’s credit card, proceeds directly to shoe store.  Wise girl.  She struts up and down in the Darlings.  She falls off the side of the red mule thingys.  We’ve all been there. 

The Bond Girls may not be immortalised on celluloid, but they’re all over the poster.

Fluevogs: Visual shorthand for ‘Rebel Within’.


Seen Vogs on tv/in movie/on foot of celeb?  Let me know.


Fluevog Spotlight: Angel Gibson Swirl

October 8, 2007

The comedy tie is care-worn and aged, and no-one wants to see the comedy boxer shorts.  How’s a conservative dresser supposed to show his wild and crazy side now?

The answer is the Gibson Swirl.  Preferably in Burgandy Rub-Off.

This shoe will pass muster as a boring oxford, but can also be waved around as evidence of a deeper layer or two.  A hint of wild.  A touch of crazy.  A smidgen of Fluevog.

The Gibson Swirl is perfectly lovely, in either the shoe or the Derby Swirl boot.  It may not be the most interesting Fluevog in the rack, but it’s a supremely adequate representative of the genre of The Straight Boy Vog.

And of course, like all Angels, it resists alkali, water, acid, fatigue and Satan.  You can’t lose.

Verdict: I wouldn’t marry this shoe, but I’d show it a thing or two in the sack.


A Black Fluevog is a Wasted Fluevog

October 4, 2007


Tamasin Day-Lewis discussed her Manolo Blahnik obsession the other day in the Telegraph (via Manolo The Shoe-Blogger).  This incredibly eloquent daughter of a poet-laureate hasn’t bought shoes by anyone else in thirty-five years.

Stop. Pause.  Think.  How long has it been since you’ve bought a pair of non-Fluevogs?

I’m safe, my transgression is fairly recent.  (Just don’t ask me how long it has been since I paid full price for a pair of shoes that weren’t Fluevogs.)

The article is a beautiful read, to wallow in both the words and the gorgeous shoes.  But my favourite bit is this:

Then there were the purple ankle boots, so dazzling that you could see them coming round corners before me, which I called my Mick Jagger boots. Jamie, who has worked in the Manolo shop so long that he has become both shoe mentor and friend, told me in no uncertain terms when I hesitated over the colour, ‘You don’t come to Manolo to buy plain black or boring. These are the ones you’re having.’

If you don’t go to Manolo for plain black and boring, you certainly shouldn’t go to Fluevog.

A Fluevog’s best aspect is never in black.  A Fluevog should always be some surprising, outlandish, uncomfortable colour.  A Fluevog should always be noticed.

Black is safe.  Fluevogs aren’t safe.  Red is gorgeous.  Green is amazing.  Purple is magnificent.  Black is boring.  (And brown is gross.)

It kills me to browse to the Fluevog page on (i.e. Amazon in a pretty dress) and see Endless black.  Their index page must favour the top colour sellers, which goes to show you how many people are wasting their Fluevog dollars.  Think orange.  Ponder teal.  Skip black.


Reason #34 Why We Love Fluevogs: They Push Our Boundaries

October 1, 2007

My friend made me sign up to MySpace.  I’d thought it was going to be a bastion of spam, sex offenders and teenagers who think the ellipses is the only necessary punctuation.  But I trusted my friend; she’d lead me right in the past, I let her lead me this time.  I shouldn’t have.

I trust John Fluevog too.  I let him lead me places I wouldn’t go on my own.  I let him convince me to buy shoes that complement nothing in my wardrobe.  I consider shoes that I’d never look twice at if they hadn’t arrived from a generally Canadian direction.  Sometimes it doesn’t always go well.  There are one or two pairs of beautiful but entirely unworn shoes in my closet.  Mostly it goes just fine.

When we buy a Fluevog, we buy it because it’s a great shoe.  Sometimes, it might not quite be ‘us’, a bit too garish, a bit too strange. but we give it a chance, and it becomes us.  We change to morph around our shoe.  We become garish and strange.  Our Fluevogs take us new places.