This past weekend, under the tutelage of a friend who is vastly more fashionable than I, I made a landmark purchase. I acquired my very first pair of leopard-print shoes. It’s a bold move, considering I have never been much into shoes. Before you scroll ahead in disgust, note that I did use a verb in the past tense. And like any self-respecting woman over 35, I will take the opportunity to blame this one on my mother. I grew-up as the daughter of an ex-gymnast and cheerleader who spent her work days in silk blouses and skirt suits from Marshall Fields. Mom was a vision (she still is), and, when she used to come and retrieve my brother and I from school, my friends would literally gawk (they still do) at the blonde shoulder-length steam-set curls and the power pumps. However, after 5:30pm, and pretty much every waking moment of her life beyond that, mom was in a tennis shoe. I am not even close to joking. My mother had more athletic footwear than an Olympic tri-athlete. In my world, fashion meant that your gym shoes had a swoosh on them. Converse high-tops were the vintage look of choice and, when you were really hoping to snazz things up, you would polish your white leather Keds. (Cut me some slack - it was the ‘80s.)
While I may have been a late-comer to the love of shoes per se, I have long been a devotee of the boot. And, rather than curb my growing (and now totally justifiable) obsession with boots, I invested in shoe racks to manage their girth. It was only a matter of months in New York before my collection caused a new disturbance in my organizational force. Turns out I was not alone. Shoe storage is a universal conquest and there never, ever seems to be enough. Ever. But there are crafty ways to manage the process, and, in an effort to capture a few inspiring ideas, I put out a call to the MYHABIT crew for their best organization solutions.
I thought Virginia had a nice shoe rack. This is a classic for anyone with unused space behind a door. Sure, you could try for a coat hook or a predictable piece of hanging art, but will it get you to floor-to-ceiling fantabulousness? Doubtful.
My own humble cabinet has saved my life. So far my boots are playing nicely with my handbags - but I suspect that is because they are currently dominating the space. There are two pairs of running shoes in here. I use them for RUNNING.
Bojana has a beautiful apartment on the Upper West Side, complete with a grand piano and the classically trained fingers to bring it to heel. Her style point of view strikes me as a mix of modern sophisticate with just a touch of edgy. However you define it, it translates to everything she touches: her decor, the way she entertains, and her fashion sensibilities. She has opted for an out-of-sight solution in her entryway. Note the spikes: she moves elegantly in them as well.
Sheila’s organization solution, for the record, was not pulled together for the benefit of this post. No joke: this is how she does it. What a thing of beauty. And, if she can really do it, I have hope for the rest of us. This may, in fact, be the reason that God invented the instant camera.