Insolia, Where Science Meets Sexy!

Despite its title, Shoenogomy, this blog has transitioned to the realm of social and cultural commentary with an occasional nod to fashion and footwear.

As I spend quite a bit of my free time researching online, I occasionally come across a product which commands my attention enough to try it out. In "In Style", I first read about Insolia High Heel Inserts. By my bio, you know I have a "predilection for heels." Necessity is the mother of invention and probably more than a few online purchases.

The brainchild of world renowned podiatrist Dr. Howard Dananberg and two MIT alums, Brian G.R. Hughes and Paul Rudovsky, Insolia transfers weight from the ball of the foot back to the heel by "placing the foot in the optimal position for high heels."

As Hughes explains, "about 25 percent of the weight that would have slid down to the toe remains back at the heel. Cupping the heel increases the contact area and reduces the peak force by 50 percent. It creates the very strong illusion that you are wearing a heel that is about half the height of the one you are actually wearing."

Insolia, constructed from an anti-bacterial material, are transparent, allowing your designer labels to show through. These are not your mother's Dr. XYZ. If this new technology, pegged by the company website as "where science meets sexy" did the job, I was willing to risk my four-inch Louboutin's. I followed the simple instructions, inserted in my Prive pumps, and voila! I slid on my heels and wore comfortably for three hours!

Insolia Inserts can be used with any kind of heel, from pumps to wedges; stilettos to peep toes. The inserts are sold by shoe size and, as they are not transferable from shoe to shoe, are available in packages of three.

As soon as I am finished writing this blog, I intend to purchase at least two more sets so all my heels will be covered!

And if you act now...

Thanks to company president Michael Backler, President of Insolia/HBN Shoe LLC, all Shoenogomy readers will receive 10% off their order! Simply enter coupon code shoenogomy when placing your order!

The Insolia website is http://insolia.com/

I'd love to hear your comments!

Boundaries?

AUGUST 31, 2009 5:49PM


We have all been guests at a home with white carpet. There may be a line of shoes by the door or even a basket filled with footwear. Maybe even a sign asking us to remove our shoes. I always thought this was a bit circumspect, maybe a little OCD, certainly not gracious. But, this exemplifies setting boundaries or limits. Maybe the carpet is new. Who wants mud from dirty soccer cleats or grease from the driveway tracked all over the new Berber?

In families, people who consistently disregard boundaries leave these dirty shoe tracks all over the place. By meddling, interfering, and expressing unwarranted opinions, they destroy feelings and relationships. These obtrusive, prying types are always snooping for information, while confident in their own personal virtue. They are masters at their game. As guests in your home, they are the ones sneaking through your medicine cabinet or reading your personal e-mails. They can't help themselves.

We live in a culture without locks on the doors. Everything is out there. In one Google search, yentas can find out how much you weigh, which political candidate you supported, where you live, how much you paid for your house, and how much you owe on it. These just feeds into the busybody culture. Lack of privacy is unsettling at best but when these folks decide to move in with you, in a metaphorical sense, relationships are destroyed.

After 9/11, we heard about chatter, when government officials heard talk of terrorist plans. In our personal lives, we can experience the same kind of behavior. The phone lines burn with people's opinions and spin on what really happens in someone else's home.

Overstepping family members have been a problem ever since the advent of marriage. Even Adam and Eve dealt with an overstepping authority figure who banished them from the Garden of Eden. However, new technologies and constant communication have moved these behaviors into an entirely different, more toxic category, with subsequent consequences.

Senator Kennedy, Rest in Peace

Senator Ted Kennedy is gone. The patriarch of the Kennedy dynasty, the de facto royalty of American politics or at least Democratic politics of the 20th century. The longest living scion of Joseph P. Kennedy, Senior, hard-living, ambitious Irish-American businessman who passed his love of politics and back-room dealmaking to his sons.

Joe Kennedy hung his initial hopes on his eldest son, Joseph Kennedy, Jr., graduate of Choate Rosemary Hall and Harvard. Unfortunately, Joe lost his life during Operation Aphrodite during World War II. Operation Aphrodite was a series of bombing runs by explosive-laden airplanes piloted by a skeleton crew who would parachute from the aircraft before detonation. Following Joe's untimely death, JFK and later Bobby took over the family political helm. Teddy was elected to the Senate in 1962. Following his brothers' subsequent assassinations, he rose like a phoenix to serve nine terms in the Senate.

Marked by the Chappaquiddick scandal, his presidential aspirations were dashed. However, he spent 47 years in the Senate, championing the poor, working, and middle classes, civil rights, and working tirelessly on the issue of universal healthcare.

The Senator was a hard drinking, football tossing Kennedy who loved to sail at Hyannis Port. He helped his extended family whose lives were often marred by tragedy, from his brothers' assassinations to the premature deaths of JFK Jr., David, and Michael, sons of Bobby.

Senator Kennedy is gone. The end of an era. Of crusty lifelong politicos who knew how to play the game, to negotiate bills, to command respect from both sides of the aisle. He is survived by his family, the Senate, and a political legacy that will live on for eternity.

My Personal Kennedy

Growing up in a politically liberal Jewish, East Coast household during the mid sixties and seventies, the Kennedy name was revered and respected. I remember pulling "Profiles in Courage" from our rather copious bookshelves, reading over and over JFK's detailed description of PT-109. My dad spoke frequently about JFK, Camelot, of our nation's dreams. One of my dad's most proude yet saddest moments was in November 1963, when he was asked to serve as the Jewish chaplain at Charleston Airforce Base, where he was a Captain in the US Airforce. Years later, I played for hours with my three foot tall cardboard Jackie Kennedy doll, dressing her in English riding habits and her Oleg Cassini suits and A-line dresses. I adored Jackie, her love of all things French, her elegant, soft-spoken manner. Although quite young, I have a strong memory of my parents tearfully watching the television reports following Bobby's assassination. I even attended John F. Kennedy Elementary school.

Our paths crossed the Kennedy's on several occasions. I recall a Christmas Eve dinner at Tavern on the Green, snow falling gently in Central Park. At an adjacent table, Teddy, Jr. and a cousin dined. Many winters, we visited Palm Beach, playground of the Kennedy's, frequenting Au Bar and other Kennedy haunts. Years later, I campaigned alongside Joseph P. Kennedy II in Bill Clinton's first bid for the presidency.

I have asked my father about the origin of our reverence for the Kennedy's. I think, for my dad, the Kennedy's represented a much simpler time. When JFK took the oath of office, kids under toe, our country was full of idealism. Sure, we had the Cuban Missile Crisis, impending War in Vietnam, Civil Rights violations. But it seemed like nothing a few martinis, straight up, couldn't fix. During Camelot, we revered our politicians. The press kept quiet all hints of personal scandal. And the Kennedy's embodied the American Dream. On a personal level, to my parents, Camelot represented newlywed life on an airforce base. They dined with friends at the Officers' Club, gave birth to their first child. Happy times. The promise of a future ahead. Youth.

Oswald's bullets shattered forever our collective dreams, spilling blood on Jackie's pink boucle suit. Our country would never be the same. Our collective innocence was further pierced by Sirhan Sirhan's shots in the Ambassador Hotel.

Teddy Kennedy died last night. The end of a dynasty. To me, the death of yet another part of my childhood.

Classy & Fabulous, Parte Deux

A girl should be two things...classy and fabulous.

Gabrielle Bonheur aka Coco Chanel was definitely both.

Bonne Anniversaire, Coco!

Chanel started her life as a poor girl born to unmarried parents in Saumur, France. Her mother died before her twelfth birthday and she grew up in an orphanage with her four siblings. Educated in a convent, she would later be inspired by the habits worn by the nuns who taught her. Coco was quite the Renaissance woman, trying her hat at an assortment of jobs including dancer, horse rider, actress, and singer. In fact, it was at a singing gig at Cafe la Rotonde where she acquired her sobriquet.

To paraphrase Sinatra, Coco Chanel was one helluva broad. She wasn't above benefiting from many lovers who helped move her career forward. She once boasted, "I was able to start a high-fashion shop because two gentlemen were outbidding each other over my hot little body." One of these men was Arthur "Boy" Capel, shipping and coal magnate who was the love of her life. He bankrolled her first boutique on rue Cambon and guided her entree into French society.

Upon his untimely death in 1919, Coco developed an appreciation for rich, powerful men. Among her consorts were Stravinsky, Etienne Balsan, and the Duke of Westminster. He inspired her love of pearls and costume jewelry. Prince Dimitri, a Russian duke, helped with the launch of her fragrance empire.

During World War II, Chanel took up with a Nazi intelligence officer ten years her junior. She was hence interrogated and arrested by the French police but managed to escape the charges, thanks to Winston Churchill.

When questioned about her affair, Chanel reportedly answered, "At my age, when a man wants to sleep with you, you don't ask to see his passport."

Chanel left an indelible mark on contemporary fashion. The little black dress, quilted handbag, yards of pearls, boucle jacket, cap toe shoe, Camelia flowers, red lipstick.

Tonight, I plan to raise a glass of Dom Perignon and toast La Doyenne of the fashion world.

Happy Birthday, Ms. Chanel!

Dancing with DeLay (or Tango Argentino Part II)

Who got peanut butter in my chocolate? When the worlds of conservative politics and popular culture become enmeshed, humor is an obvious result. I couldn't even dream up a story resulting in more guffaws than this! Tom DeLay, Dancing Machine? The possibility of The Hammer appearing in pink spandex with "false chest hair." I could not resist signing up for updates on Mr. DeLay's website. Here's hoping it isn't some vast right wing conspiracy to get me to change sides!

If you haven't heard, Tom DeLay, former House Majority Leader, will be two-stepping, disco-ing, and performing all sorts of nifty dance moves on the upcoming season of ABC-TV's Dancing With The Stars. Apparently, Mr. DeLay has some pretty impressive moves on the dance floor.

Let's take a peak at the backstory before moving on. Mr. De Lay, aka The Hammer, developed a reputation for his enforcement of party discipline in close votes and for taking political retribution on opponents. He rose up the ranks of Republican politics rather swiftly until 2005 when a Texas grand jury indicted him on criminal charges for conspiracy to violate campaign finance laws, a charge he denies. Under pressure from his party, he stepped down as Majority Leader in 2006. Despite the conviction of two of his former aides in the Jack Abramoff lobbying scandal, he ran for re-election and won the primary. He decided to withdraw from the race and resigned from his seat.

That is the general consensus of things went down. However, Mr. DeLay has a different spin on the events.

According to his Dancing With DeLay website, "When former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay decided to leave Congress in 2006, he immediately went to work researching how the Democrats have built their outside operations and massive political coalitions, and rebuilding the conservative movement by identifying and filling the voids so conservatives could better compete in this new political paradigm. Despite repeated Democrat attempts to drive him out of politics, DeLay has thrived in a new arena, with the sole goal to help conservatives, whether through new or previously existing organizations, work together to drive their message. "

Wondering if that message includes the Hustle!

According to his wife, DeLay has been busy practicing his moves and even dropped 12 pounds! He told Chris Cuomo on GMA, "I love dancin'! You got to love dancin' if you're from Texas, I haven't danced in about 20 years. But, um, I love dancin'." Guess he was too busy aggressively pushing through the Conservative agenda or being chased out by liberals, depending on whose position you take.

While I was without a doubt no fan of DeLay's politics, I am anxious to see him boogie. In fact, I am delighted to note that he has links to Twitter, his Facebook page, and even plans to upload videos to You Tube! I could always use a good laugh and plan to start following him on Twitter today!

In the meantime, I strongly encourage you to visit Mr. DeLay's website, www.tomdelay.com. Sometimes, reality trumps fiction and I am assuming this is the case!

Tango Argentino

By now, we are accustomed to politicians and sex scandals. Like hot dogs, apple pie, and firecrackers on the 4th of July, these liaisons have become part of the American landscape.

As I await the September issue of Vogue (long my favorite! All those fall clothes!), I read excerpts from an exclusive interview with Jenny Sanford, wife of South Carolina Gov. caught up in an illicit romance with Maria Belen Chapur of Argentina. Back in June, Mark Sanford went MIA for several days, on getaway with his South American mistress. Jenny Sanford was the epitome of cool and collected when responding to press inquiries at the time. She replied that she hadn't heard from her husband in several days, including Father's Day.

This magna cum laude Georgetown grad with a reported IQ of 170 left a successful career as VP of Lazard Freres and Co. for marriage and motherhood. Mrs. Sanford has been the backbone of her husband's political career. When her husband told her of his Congressional bid back in '94, she was in the hospital recovering from the birth of her second child. Apparently, she took this all in stride, running his campaign, in which she "oversaw staff, drafted speeches, set policy, and raised money," all the while baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for reporters and other visitors. Clearly, she is a woman who can do it all.

In fact, one of her friends has commented, “So often when a woman is business minded, they’re not good at being a cookie baking soccer mom, but that’s the thing about Jenny. You cannot stereotype her that way. She can be either one of those things and do it effortlessly.”

By now, Jenny may seem like a Stepford Wife, but that's politics.

According to Mrs. Sanford, she and her husband weren't exactly hot and heavy when they met.

“We weren’t madly in love, but we were compatible and good friends. I like to think we balance each other out. I’m a conservative at heart, but I’m not passionate like he is. I’m better at making the trains run on time ... At heart, I’m an old-fashioned woman. If the Lord blessed me with children and family, I knew that would be my calling.”

While Mark Sanford never had a rep for flirting at parties, apparently this changed when he met his paramour. He became quite a lothario, with his romantic e-mails. Buenos Aires is the land of the Tango. Maybe he was inspired?

In an e-mail to Maria, he gushes to his mistress,“Two, mutual feelings - You have a particular grace and calm that I adore. You have a level of sophistication that so fitting with your beauty. I could digress and say that you have the ability to give magnificent gentle kisses, or that I love your tan lines or that I love the curve of your hips, the erotic beauty of you holding yourself (or two magnificent parts of yourself) in the faded glow of the night’s light - but hey, that would be going into sexual details.”

Meanwhile, Mrs. Sanford continues her spin. Comparing Mark's relationship to an "addiction like pornography or alcohol" (aka The Devil Made Me Do It!), she underwent pastoral and marriage counseling when it became clear "he was just obsessed with going to see this woman." She admits being somewhat surprised that a man as upstanding as her husband would "do something like that." Boys will be boys.

Mrs. Sanford admits to googling the competition. " What woman wouldn't want to know what her husband's mistress looks like?" a friend of Jenny's asks in September's Vogue. "She's pretty," was her opinion. And furthermore, she can understand the appeal of a long distance lover. "Everybody would like to escape sometimes. I'd like someone 5,o00 miles away I could E-mail. It's not exclusive to men but it isn't realistic."

A good Christian, Mrs. Sanford feels sorry for the other woman. "I am sure she is a fine person. It can't be fun for her, though I do sometimes question her judgement...All I can do is pray for her because she made some poor choices."

To keep us up to date, Mrs. Sanford remains in the family beachfront home with her four sons while the Governor resides in the Governor's Mansion. She told Vogue, "I am not in charge of revenge. That's not up to me. That's for the Lord to decide and it's important for me to teach that to my boys....Now I think it's up to my husband to do the soul searching to see if he wants to stay married. The ball is in his court."

The lesson for political wives seems to be stand by your man, sprinkle your interviews with references to God, country, and family, and pray for the best. Who knows, you might even get a profile story in Vogue!