Beware the man not moved by feet, and the footwear that cushions and coddles, tweaks and torments. Everywhere you look, vandals in sandals, heels that won’t yield. Step right up.

White nurse shoes like my sister wore when I was tiny.

Fur trimmed mules [John Wayne wore these between takes on movie sets- don’t ask.]

Louboutins for that scarlet flash of soul on city streets. It’s the only red light that says, “Go!”

Rosa Klebb’s poison-tipped lace-ups in “From Russia With Love.”

Heavyweight brogues on delicate girly feet.

Gold sandals with ankle straps long enough to use as a riding crop.

Dale Evans in custom cowboy boots.

Uma Thurman in white Superga sneakers.

Librarians in the stacks in stilettos.

Jane Fonda’s sling backs in Klute.

My mum’s polka dot peep-toe wedgies circa 1956.

Max Blagg surveys the summery sidewalk.

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MAX BLAGG wrote a short hymn to footwear in this issue. His long awaited fictional autobiography, Ticket Out, will be published in fall 2012. He lives in New York City.

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