Wednesday, October 26, 2011

claudette on clogs

Which is brighter -- claudette's smile or that streetlight? hard to say, but claudette's smile comes with added benefits such as claudette herself who is a winning combination of worldly + cool + adorable and her schoolboy blazer-n-buttondown story and her handmade clogs. and now, THIS POST IS GOING TO THE CLOGS (sue me).
man, claudette had the 411 (i always have stop and think about the whole 411/911 confusement -- there is just every chance, in the event of a fire or tragic accident involving my fingers and a sewing machine, i would reach an operator asking me what city please) on clogs. these handmade swedish clogs with a scottish brogue and liberal sandal leanings are sold in New York City at a hip shop called No. 6 for $275 but she drove up to east buttwhistle chisago, mn to Sven's clogged-up workshop where little elf-like cobblers sit at tiny benches hammering in those staples with hammers the size of a cocktail fork and bought these No. 6 clogs for $125 which is still a lot but any third grader can figure, is about.... a LOT less than $275. also, remote as it is, chisago is somewhat closer than nyc. 
the connection, claudette tells me, is that some hip designers-without-hammers from nyc were either taking a vacation at hazelden or thought the sign said Chicago, and found themselves at Svens. charmed by the tiny workforce but horrified by a design that was not influenced by the hormonal and pharmaceutical rollercoaster of an over-caffeinated artistic director/tyrant, the No. 6ers pulled Sven aside and made him an offer he couldn't refuse, namely their brand of vogue-ity vogue topside stapled to the same jajaja wooden sole that would turn no. 2-do shoes for nurses and other people who enjoy a little fentanyl with their tuna salad into hip No. 6 footwear anchoring the brittle legs of russian models. Sven bit and now can be seen cruising around Taylors Falls in a pimped out volvo with blackout windows and license plate that reads S-Munee. but Sven, that sly dog, doesn't send all of the happening wooden kicks to nyc -- some he sells to people in the know from a back room at the chisago  sweatworkshop. you have to know the password, which is Whereislakeshoredrive. then out with the benjamins and a little smoked herring for the elves and, bobs your uncle, you're clogging it up like claudette. 

p.s. 'roided out clogs are having a moment and that is for sure, but me and gerald ford are going to issue a warning right here and now about the dangers of clogs + snow and ice.

1 comment:

Claudette said...

You're hilarious! You embellish a story like no other. I wonder if any of your readers will up and go to Chisago and use that password you so generously shared?