Ryzenberg On: My Louboutin Friendship

I was looking for the perfect sandals for an upcoming event. Had my eye on a pair of patent leather YSL tribute pumps until I spotted these bad boys at Barney’s for 75 percent off. That was a no-brainer and snagged a pair quicker than the shop girl could ask ‘cash or charge?’ In retrospect, it was like going out and not thinking you’ll meet anyone exciting and BAM, a hot guy starts talking to you — S.C.O.R.E.

To me, shoes are like friendships with the opposite sex. You have your go-to footwear that’s always there through thick and thin. (For me, it’s my Havaianas and Dolce Vita riding boots) Then there are those high heels that you wear, on occasion because they are alright and can withstand any situation and then of course, we have those pieces de resistance, the show stoppers that tend to stop traffic and cause a bit of pain.

Now here is where the boys come in. We all have a guy friend we call, laugh, confide and cry with (some of my boys give me life lessons, in addition to a heavy dose of reality check) and to me, they are my Havaianas because I can always count on them. 

Then of course, there are those guys who text the ‘what are you doing, let’s grab coffee/drinks’ and you don’t seem to mind their company, yet you are not attracted to them ‘like that.’ This friendship is rare because it’s more like a buffer zone and an acquaintance that you run into at parties occasionally, smile at and chit chat with. 

The most complicated, yet delightful of them all, is the friendship with sexual tension or what I like to call, ‘The Louboutin Friendship.’ Wow, this one is the tough one because ‘he is your friend, yet you wouldn’t mind seeing where it could go’ — been there, done that. It’s a risky move that may end in a painful breakup and a lost friendship. Yup, the shoes are irresistible and they make your legs rival those of Heidi Klum. Yet a few hours after strapping them on, the pain comes in, slowly, followed by the limping and unavoidably, they come off.

The gold Louboutins were the talk of a wedding I recently went to in Peru. Everyone complemented me on the foot candy, but come 2 a.m. and in the middle of ‘la hora loca,’ my feet gave up. DUNZO. They could not move and I had to sit (which, BTW, I was not happy because the music was quite fun.) Luckily, the bride gave away slippers so I took a pair and put the Loubis in a locker. Oh yeah, and haven’t worn them since.

The most ironic part of it all is that I had just broken up with a boyfriend whom I was friends with before we dated. So I took a risk with my ‘Louboutin Friendship,’ which like my sandals, ended up being a painful, but worth it experience.

Ryzenberg On, Is Signing off