Red Shoes by Chipka
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No AI - This artwork was created entirely by hand or with traditional digital tools.
Description
When I think of nights in that city, I remember:
—The click of stiletto heels on frozen concrete; next year’s potholes growing in the hairline fissures of winter’s subtle contractions. Things were always smaller when it was too cold for snow, and colors were more garish. The city, as I remember, was always most desperate in
February.
—A night, somewhere in The Nethers, amid the strained, keening non-sound of restive anger. Blue police lights, flashing like supernovae. Camera strobes: photographers from The Times, The Post, and iQ Nightly. Mostly, though, I remember him with Mercury wings on his biker boots, his leather jacket zipped to his chin. His skin, in memory if not in reality, was pale. White. Ghostly. His eyes burned with something incomprehensible and ponderous in its significance. He didn’t see me as I watched him, dodging from one doorway to another, and another after that. The first flakes of snow were beginning to fall. Not many more fell afterward. It was too cold. The clouds above were too thin. But there was snow…one flake…twelve…thirty at the most, and he didn’t notice them, didn’t feel them through the tailored hide of some leather-bearing animal. He wore belt buckles. Lots of them. He wore D-clamps, like a paramilitary assassin. He ran. He dodged through shadows, while behind, at the intersection of Ogden and Nash, sudden thunder broke.
I remember the screams, the chaos, the brilliant magnesium flare: God’s own camera strobe, etching shadows on concrete, shadows on the sides of cars. Shadows. The screams, I thought, were jackal sounds: animal noises, shrill and terrified. I imagined bladders emptying themselves, I imagined police officers, guns drawn. But all I saw was him…the boy in black leather, a messenger-bag slung across his back. He paused, and in that pause I caught his eyes as he caught mine, and right then, right there, I knew a lot of things at once.
I betrayed nothing. He betrayed nothing. I turned, as casually as I could have managed and simply stared through my reflection in the window of an expensive lingerie shop. I saw things. Adult toys, and red shoes worth more than two months rent.
* * *
It’s odd how story fragments ooze out of pictures. It’s odd how photographs simply grab me and demand some form of rememberance. I am always happy to oblige them, and so I thought nothing of capturing what I’d seen in a window on Belmont Avenue. There was something in the color, something in the lit torsos meant to imply the shapes of women. There was something in the night itself: a warm night, far from the winter written above. All of it found its way into this photograph, and out of it, and so…here it is…
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a fantastic week.
Comments (22)
I have never seen mannequins lit up before. That's an interesting way to sell an undergarment. But then again the garters and bras have to pull attention away from those shoes - they seem to have a light of their own. Maybe it is this particular shade of red that eyes take to be brighter than all other colours. Even in the dark such objects (shoes, dresses, garter belts) are so much more visible than their surroundings. I love the woman in the background, her hair died the exact same shade. It just pulls the eye in again. Yes, I'd want my skin illuminated when confronted with such competition.
Oh--there are shoes in the foto?? lol bet lots of people hardly saw them. very cool shot!!
Nice shot.
Stunning capture complimented by some astonishing writing my friend. God Bless.
excellent shot
love this work
Great capture and story to go along with it.
There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place...
Oh, I loooove all those outfits, gimmee, gimmee, gimmee ... niiice shot there Chipka
For me, this immediately made me think of the song Red Shoes sung by Chris Thomas King in his album The Legend of Tommy Johnson. I have it playing now! Fits perfectly! I also like the illuminated mannequins; they would be cool for corsets!
The title took me straight to the 1950's film. Then I read your terrific short yarn..marvellous. Then I examined the pic: most unusual to see clothes displayed in a window here which are anything larger than an American 4! Not sure about the illuminated torsos. I like to have a healthy glow about me even at my age but I should be reluctant to exhude phosphorescence. And I LOVED "the intersection of Ogden and Nash"! inspired.
all clothes looks like retro style !! great captured !! like your words and idea to this too!!
Beautiful capture!
Another intriguing snippet worthy of expansion...you are so good at these!
AWESOME
Ogden and Nash? Is that anywhere near Clifford and Oddets? Maybe fairly close to Carmen and Miranda? I like this story a lot. Or more correctly, this fragment. You had me going and now I want to know WHAT it is that happened what you saw in his eyes? I remember this night, wasn't it when we saw that "bouncy" thing? What was that anyway?? This shot came out well. I don't tend to think of people glowing in the dark unless they been irradiated. This looks much more pleasant. Kind of like a giant nightlight wearing lingerie.Love the otherworldly quality to this and the deep deep depth of field. Great shot!
Initially I loved the shot just for the vintage apparel, but then I read your mesmerizing bit of writing and went back, searching for those faint reflections...
What a great find, Chip!:)
Something about this made me think of Annabelle and the Stork. Maybe it's the lighting. Anyway ... I love this! What a fabulous photograph. The detail is great, and I love it that fashion is trending back toward the 40s and early 50s. That creation in the lower right has to have been inspired by a post-war bathing suit. Way cool!
I like the interesting windows - vitrines, so glad to see it here :)
The shoes are eye catchers and then I noticed everything else. Then, as you mentioned, old memories drifted in. :>) Dana
I like shop windows in the night. Special atmosphere. Well seen and captured, dear Chip.