Let’s be honest: about fifty percent of my affinity for lucite sandals can be attributed to these chairs:
They’re my new dining room chairs. They remind me of Philippe Starck Ghost Chairs and yet are from Ikea, and I adore them (full review and purchasing rationale here).
The other fifty percent of this affinity is probably about the fact that lucite is very frequently found on shoes that are intended more for stage-strutting than for Sunday brunch. I mean, I am a person who has shopped at burlesque stores for everything from shoes to dresses to rugs with nary a trace of irony, and in another lifetime I would very much enjoy coming back as Dita Von Teese, so six-inch heels made of plastic are something I have exactly zero problem wearing.
I also understand that I may be in the minority here.
These, if you’re curious, are the last pair of shoes I picked up from a burlesque shop (pictured wayyyy back in what I think was the second-ever style post I ever put up on RG). They are still in my closet looking adorable, sitting in a place of honor despite the fact that they haven’t been worn in…oh, two and a half years.
And not because I don’t like them; just because they don’t make a ton of sense to wear in my day-to-day life, such as it is right now. Forget about the fact that pregnancy hormones somehow transmitted a directive to my feet to completely stop being capable of standing upright in shoes like this; let’s imagine what the other mommies in my local toddler music class would have to say if I wobbled in wearing these. Probably not “Oh, how darling; let’s invite the new girl over for tea and playdates.”
Possibly. But probably not.
Anyway, this is all to say that I continue to love lucite, but especially love the fact that designers have started to embrace it for shoes that range beyond spike heels.
And I especially love Kate Spade’s nude pair (which is on sale – down from $360 – for those of you who love it too). The shoe also comes in black and white and an amazing blue and red…but for an item this trendy, that price tag feels high to me.
$40 for a rose-colored pair (to wear with my rose-colored glasses, of course)? Much better. I’ve never heard of this brand before, so I can’t vouch for the quality…but at that price, they can go ahead and fall to pieces by summer’s end and I’ll give them a pat and send them on their way.
