Skip to main content

boot to the head


ok, so i feel the need to talk about the shoe thing. i make no secret of the fact that, like many women, i like shoes. in fact, i like both shoes and clothes, not simply because i’m a woman, but because i’m an aesthete. in its simplest form, i mean that things that are pleasing to the eye make me happy because i like to have the presence of beauty in the world reinforced. in its more practical form, related to human beings, i equate a certain pride in appearance with a level of self-respect. you want to show the world the beautiful you that you see. or, from another point of view, you believe you’re worthy of beautiful things. (and i’m saying this realizing that it can easily be taken to an unhealthy extreme, like most things.)

aestheticism has gotten a bad wrap in general, because it is associated with vanity and shallowness. the two are not necessarily linked. the other thing that is commonly associated with aestheticism is an unhealthy addiction to consumption. after all, you’re spending money on things, things that you don’t need. i always wonder why this criticism, though, should be limited to those who by products for aesthetic reasons. would it be more tolerable if i wore the same sweat pants and sports shirt for five days but drove an suv?

the image of the slightly braindead woman who owns a lot of shoes and clothes is a convenient handle that people like to attach, because it makes other human beings easier to deal with. it’s a common phenomenon; pick a basic, easy-to-understand trait in someone, something that’s obvious and relatively simple to make light of, work from the assumption that this represents the largest and most important part of their character and do your best to convey this perception to others.

as you might be able to guess, i get very sick of having this mantle foist on me. i spend almost all of my life either voluntarily wearing masks or having them imposed on me by others, but this has to be one of the most objectionable. i’m left with the impression that i could walk into a room, give a dissertation on van gogh, establish peace in the middle east, and design an interstellar craft that is environmentally beneficial and i’d be greeted only with “that’s nice, but don’t you really want to be shopping?”

now, i’m not trying to deny the fact that i enjoy things whose function is entirely aesthetic, but i am uncomfortable with the mentality that takes an existing part of my personality as constituting the whole. after all, it’s that same mentality that makes assumptions about people based on their race or gender or any other handle that means that you don’t have to work to understand someone else. that sort of intellectual laziness and lack of curiosity is an insult to the potential of the grey lump between your ears.

so yes, i really like shoes. and there are a lot of people who think that everyone other than them can be reduced to a simple set of catch phrases and surface-level personality traits. which one of us is shallow again?

Comments

as long as you're here, why not read more?

wrong turn

as some of you are aware, i have a long-term project building a family tree. this has led me to some really interesting discoveries, like the fact that i am partly descended from crazy cat people, including the patron saint of crazy cat ladies, that a progenitor of mine once defeated a french naval assault with an army of scarecrows, that my well-established scottish roots are just as much norwegian as scottish, and that a relative of mine from the early middle ages let one rip with such ferocity that that's basically all he's remembered for. but this week, while i was in the midst of adding some newly obtained information, i found that some of my previous research had gone in an unexpected direction: the wrong one.

where possible, i try to track down stories of my better-known relatives and in doing so this week, i realised that i couldn't connect one of my greatĖ£ grandfathers to his son through any outside sources. what's worse that i found numerous sources that con…

dj kali & mr. dna @ casa del popolo post-punk night

last night was a blast! a big thank you to dj tyg for letting us guest star on her monthly night, because we had a great time. my set was a little more reminiscent of the sets that i used to do at katacombes [i.e., less prone to strange meanderings than what you normally hear at the caustic lounge]. i actually invited someone to the night with the promise "don't worry, it'll be normal". which also gives you an idea of what to expect at the caustic lounge. behold my marketing genius.

mr. dna started off putting the "punk" into the night [which i think technically means i was responsible for the post, which doesn't sound quite so exciting]. i'd say that he definitely had the edge in the bouncy energy department.

many thanks to those who stopped in throughout the night to share in the tunes, the booze and the remarkably tasty nachos and a special thank you to the ska boss who stuck it out until the end of the night and gave our weary bones a ride home…

eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…