Long Shoes – The Vertical Temptation
“Life is a mere distraction, an absurd game we all play.” — Arthur Schopenhauer
This is Long Shoes — an elegant contradiction, a sensual paradox, a lace-bound provocation. This is not just a shoe. It is an existential statement, a visual caress suspended between fetish and theater. You don’t buy Long Shoes to walk — you buy them to dance on the edge of absurdity.
It rises, proud and slender, like a line of black poetry against the white page of the world. Each lace, precisely crisscrossed, is a riddle — a nod to your darker self, a tribute to your freedom to take nothing seriously, especially yourself. The suede, soft as a whispered secret, hugs the leg with refined insolence, turning the mundane into magic, and function into glorious frivolity.
This is not for everyone. No. Long Shoes is for the one who doesn’t need a reason to desire. For the woman who already owns islands but still craves that thrill — that exquisite shiver of excess. She is wealthy, she is free, and she is lucid: she knows life has no meaning, and that is precisely why she indulges in such delirious luxury.
Schopenhauer called life an absurd game — so why not cheat in style? Why not play in 10-centimeter heels, laced up to the soul, defying gravity and the gravity of existence? Long Shoes is a precious distraction, a break in logic, a work of art so useless that it becomes essential.
Buy them. Because you can. Because it makes no sense. Because elegance, when it flirts with the absurd, becomes the highest form of intelligence.
Long Shoes — For those who dance where others hesitate to exist.
