Well Shod, Well Imformed

I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH DSQUARED2

Yesterday DSquared2 presented a macabre collection of skeletal ‘feature heels’ that has given the Despotic Queen cause for concern…and when I’m concerned, I charge my taser heels...and get ready to rumble!

Imelda’s of the opinion that the DSquared2 heel (right) is a little too close-to-the-bone (boom.tish) to Gianni Barbato’s A/W 09/10-feature heel (left).

OK, so it’s NOT identical. But I want all my beloved Imeldettes to remember, when Lady Gaga is stompin’ around in them (and she will) that Barbato did it first!

Thoughts?

THE MAESTRO HITS ALL THE RIGHT NOTES

She’d been scratching around my strip mine for days and I was about to call off the search party when Yum Yum squealed, “I found it Mrs. But…hmmm, this doesn’t look good. There’s something attached to it”. Like a Meerkat she bobbed up from between my legs, her face pinched with concern.

“Mrs you know doctor said you’re too old to store things down there” glancing down for comedic effect, “But I haven’t” I protested, “well, not since the late ‘90’s”

“Use the jaws the life if you have to” I barked before forcing her back down the mine “just hurry the fuck up”

“Oh…it’s a CD”

“What! VD? Impossible” I said, “The mine’s been out of commission for years”

“No, a ceee deee, like for the music” as if to illustrate the point that I was dumb as well as deaf, she started flapping the disk in my face “Oh it’s from Mr Barbato” I said

Snatching at the CD with my claws, “ahh so that’s where I put it…phew good work”

A couple of weeks ago my good friends at Gianni Barbato gave us a sneak peek of the new collection, and because Barbato produces a monster collection he posts the Despotic Queen the full collection on disk. Of course, when the disk arrived I was busy with the business of being despotic so I stashed if somewhere safe *looks down* for dramatic effect. Wiping the disk clean I sprung out of the stirrups, anxious to see how the Maestro was going to top these Geta inspired wedges.

With luxury footwear on life-support thanks to the slop served up during the S/S 10 collections, independent designers like Gianni Barbato are fast becoming the go-to for the discerning footwear buyer.

Barbato's S/S10 collection clocks in at over 120 styles, the trouble with producing such a large collection is not knowing where to start, so Babarto suggested Imelda kick-off with his new lifestyle range titled ‘LIFE’

Over the past 4/5 seasons Dior Homme and Lanvin have really dug in and established their reputations (in lifestyle category) with their covetous high priced hi-tops, making me wonder if Barbarto’s launch was more a tactical play for the same end client.

Racking up an interesting mix of non-sportive fabrics including woven, perforated, and distressed leathers, Babarto’s lifestyle collection appears to be geared towards an older clientele. The collection also sees team Barbarto introducing bulky lace as a contrasting quarter in-lay for women and mesh inlays used in the men’s hi-tops.

Not Imelda’s cuppa but the collection is tight and likely to be Barbato’s entry price point into the luxury lifestyle market.

Perhaps with an eye on capping his price points, Babarto has used luxe fabrications sparingly, instead focusing on treated leathers and suede. Still it wouldn’t be a Babarto collection without a splash of snake and pony, his pop art coloured snakeskins have been tattooed with floral motifs while his giraffe patterned pony skin sandals perfectly capture the sub Saharan zeitgeist.

Taming his avant-garde styling, Barbato has focused his considerable design talent on producing a range of classically styled gladiator style sandals, pumps and open toe boots.

 The influence of Japanese footwear was seen in a number of S/S 10 collections and aside from Babato’s geta wedges the maestro has taken inspiration from the gentle art of origami.

Enveloping the foot, Barbarto’s stone coloured origami sandal is a glorious homage to late 90’s minimalistic chic pioneered by designers like Lang, Demeulemeester and Sander. While the men’s option in aged brown leather is the Despotic Queen’s pick for the season.

With my touchstone of tyranny tingling I should note there were a few questionable (not featured) studded double denim styles, which are bound be a hit with those oil rich Eastern Euros. However, considering the volume of footwear Barbarto produces there’s bound to be a few (forgivable) misses…and mercifully, not a single clog!

LITTLE (BEAUTY) SHOP OF HORRORS - PT TWO

Spread-eagle on the floor and wallowing in a (rare) moment of self-pity, I was abruptly snapped back to reality by the odious scent of cheap port (the boxed ‘value-pack’ kind) and cabbage.

Immaculator!

Despite looking (and smelling) like recycled douche water she managed to breach Palace security, yet again. Looking up, I sighed, my eyes gorging on her age inappropriate outfit “shouldn’t you be working a back room at Sexpo?”

“I’m not the one whose mouth looks like a bloodied fleshlight” she retorted, her jowls shaking with laughter.

Dragging myself up off the floor, I whooshed past her grumbling “I’m popular enough to take my mutilated mouth, paint it pink and turn it into a teen trend”

“Yeees” she mocked, “because all 15-year old boys want to tongue an abortion bucket, I can see it being a huge trend” she cackled.

Leaning closer, she asked, “are those…flies?”

KA BOOM

OH NOES! Releasing herself from her travel cage, Yum Yum took Immaculator’s lame storyline out with her signature ‘crouching tiger, hidden squirt-kitty’ flying leap.

Going nowhere fast, Immaculator proved she was nothing more than a tired bit player that was slowing down Imelda’s narrative.

“um um don’t think iz still not mad at chu!” Waving my chipped talons over Immaculator’s lifeless corpse, “Give her the Abu Ghraib and then lock her in the guest travel cage. I’ll deal with this mess later.”

Ping-ping, ping-ping. “Oh” I coo’d “who could this be” as I logged into Skype.

“Eeemelda”, my heart skipped a beat “Oh Gianni Barbato” I cried and without thinking, I switched on web cam.

“Ohhh Eeemelda. You look fabulous” he lied. Giggling coquettishly, I covered my mouth. Oh really? My day was going from bad to worse; here was an 80 year-old former head of state(sponsored tyranny) and world-renowned beauty, acting like a Meg Ryan.

“Eee-melda” the maestro sang, “I’m alarmed by your commitment to fashion.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Augmenting your lips to match my shoes, it’s genius. You’re the idiot savant of footwear. Ze shoes I sent for you to wear to your big window opening. You’ve matched your lips to the wedges, no?”

I was beginning to feel like it was my brain and not my lips that had been botoxed, “I’ll call you back”

Walking into the gifting wing I spotted the only parcel that wasn’t labelled ‘hazardous’. Remembering the time those poisonous lawn ornaments (sent by Nancy) cleared customs and my internal security, I wasn’t taking any chances, so I slipped into my bio-suit.

Gianni had included a note “More to come…”, my touchstone tingled.

Ripping into the box I pulled out three wedges…

 

“Ooooh” I (would have liked to have) whistled, after last season’s skull heels I have been wondering ‘what-next’ from the Maestro and now we know.

But Barbato was right, holding the geta style wedge to my face, even Imelda had to admit, a little gold lipstick and I was in business. People expect the Despotic Queen to be a little absurd but would reverse mutilation err me further into the theatre of the macabre or would, as I told Immaculator, be starting a new teen sensation?

Either way, the lunacy of this ‘after school’ special had me doubled over in fits of laugher, so short of breath I almost poop’d in my petty pants.

LITTLE (BEAUTY) SHOP OF HORRORS - PT ONE

“Oh um um” I moaned, examining my newly augmented lips “what have you done?"

With Imelda’s big opening only days away, the Palace of Despotism has been at defcon five. I’ve combined a strict low cal diet of broiled placentas and broken dreams with twice daily Jazz Ballet for Jesus classes. My body was officially a wonderland, but my face, well that was just wondering (where the eff I misplaced my youth).

Under normal circumstances I perform my own augmentations but it was Friday afternoon and the previous evening while watching Glee, I’d knocked back one too many Liz Taylor’s. The DT’s were now ravishing my central nervous system and I was shakier than an Afghan democracy.

For the last 80 years Imelda’s been strictly au natural but I knew at some point botox and the Despotic Queen would become besties. I’d already decided when the time came, lest I get my freakface-on Nancy Reagan style, I’d perform my own augmentations. The Adult Learning Annex had an 8-week (night) course in Cosmetic Surgery; I took 4 of those 8-weeks before dropping out.

With the fundamentals sorted, I earned the rest of my diploma by watching Nip/Tuck, Dr 90210 and mutilating Yum Yum.

Aside from the time I gave her a vaginal reconstruction, Yum Yum was lucid for most of her procedures (What? I wasn’t going to waste good anaesthetic) which is why I was confident she could administer botox. “Bee-stung” were my final words.

Looking in the mirror, I touched my lumpy bloodied lips and I cried, “I’m a Craigslist freak! My mouth looks like a bucket of warm Third World abortions!”

“OH NOES” she yelped

Sensing there was going to be an epic beat-down she took-off faster than AIDS in a Mogadishu whorehouse.

With a taste for blood (literally) I roared through the Palace of Despotism wielding my Taser Heels.

When I finally found Yum Yum she’d managed to lock herself inside her travel cage. Poking my head through the food flap I screamed, “um um look at me! Now I’m gruesome inside AND outside”. Cowering, she scrambled to the back of the cage.

I spent the next half an hour trying to smoke her out, and in the process snapped off all of my commerative Fantasy Island press-ons.

Exhausted, I gave the cage one last high kick and then crumbled to the floor letting out a defeated moan…“urgh”.

PART TWO - Tomorrow

SLAVE TO THE ALGORITHM

If some gobble gobble gets all up in your grills about fashion and the lack of money you’ll make from blogging about it, you need to smack that turkey’s crack til it’s black.

Let Imelda tell you, this morning I received my second cheque from Google AdSense. This roughly equates to one cheque for each year of blogging - I don’t need my abacus to tell me that’s a premium blue chip investment. All the hours spent generating original content, slaving over my SEO, blah, blah, blah has finally paid off.

Honestly, I haven’t seen so much money since the people of the Philippines gifted Imelda with the keys to the Treasury. I realize it’s gauche to talk coin and mercy, I don’t wanna sound like Nancy Regan but damn! Would someone throw Mama a lifeguard coz I’m drowning in greenback!

With all this scratch burning a hole in my Birkin there’s no need to trick, so we’re giving the Despotic Queen’s touchstone of tyranny the week off.

I’ve already requested that the paperwork be started on my next shipment of able-bodied orphans and I’m thinking my next shoe purchase should be this pair of Gianni Barbato snakeskin half moon heels. I can afford the boot (SEEN HERE) but I should be mindful we are in troubled times and dragging my web generated wealth through blogosphere might be a turn-off! You know deal...to the left and down...happy voting!