Monday, 3 December 2012

SHOES HATH CHARMS TO SWAY THE HOMOSEXUAL BEAST

JUST SHOES? TO YOU, MAYBE. 
But Ricky Martin's boyfriend proposed to me once 
when I was wearing these bad boys. True story.
Most of us girls know a thing or two about the incredible power of shoes. They have sex appeal. They have allure. They have the power to turn an average girl into a hottie and an average outfit into a knockout ensemble. 

But something happened to me the other day that made me realize shoes may have a whole other level of heretofore undiscovered power. The power to make a man “switch sides.

So I was wearing my brand new Temptress Red six-inch stilettos. The miserable fuckers bit into my feet like rusty claw-foot traps, but they are so hot I endured the pain for hours before finally crawling to the ladies' room on my hands and knees to change into flip-flops.
However, during those few crippling hours, those red-hots drew bags of compliments . . . including a peculiar one from a young gay acquaintance. 

As I walked past him, I could feel his eyes glomming onto my shoes and caressing them like a crazy cat lady caresses her cats.
"I LOVE your shoes, Marie!" he said.
"Thank you," I grimaced. "They're really comfortable!"
"They make you look so hot!" he said, and I swear he was blushing. 
I blinked and gave him a confused smile. "Uhhh ... thank you?"

Show me a man who can resist 
a pair of pink feathered shoes and 
I will show you a man whose eyes 
were pecked out by blackbirds.






Yeah. So that on its own, not exactly world-altering. But it reminded me of a time last summer, when I went to a Mary J Blige concert. The crowd lined up for a good hour outside beforehand, and as always, you get to know people in the lineup. I met a friendly young man from Montreal and he told me about his recent breakup.
"Some day you'll meet the right woman," I soothed.
He smiled and said, "Well thanks, but I'm gay, so I doubt that."

We got along so well he hung around with my crew once we were inside. As the night progressed and he had a few beers, he became friendlier. And at one point he leaned in close and said, "Those shoes make your legs look amazing!" 
In a way that made me, even in my advanced stages of beer ingestion, snap to attention. 
"Are you sure you're gay?" I asked him. AND HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY.

So I'm thinking, is it possible to be not all the way gay? I thought it was like being pregnant: either you is or you ain't. Now I'm wondering.
I'm also wondering, can shoes make you switch sides?  

Of course, it may not be the shoes that are doing this. It may just be me. I have long suspected I am the sort of catnip that can drive straight men mad and gay men straight. But the shoes definitely help. And if they are, in fact, the missing ingredient, then I just bought me a pair of size 7-and-a-half, gay-marriage homewreckers. That's right: Christian Louboutins. 
Gay men, you'd better hang on to your husbands.