为了生活 我必须得有一百双鞋

　　按最保守的估计，我的鞋也有近百双之多。我乘出租车时穿漂亮的高跟鞋，漫步时则穿平底鞋。我有既时尚又耐用的黑色漂亮短靴以及怪异的尖头小鞋（着实让我女儿羡煞不已）。

　　I own seven pairs of sneakers, two sets of wellington boots, four pairs of loafers and five lots of slippers¹. Some shoes are furnished with extraordinary, sculptural wedge-shaped heels, and others tipped with tiny stilettos. I own artisanal clogs² that would befit a Quaker woodsmith, strappy snakeskin stilettos by Louis Vuitton and black-toed Chanel slingbacks that imbue³ the most banal⁴ of outfits⁵ with instant chic⁶. I own Saint Laurent Patti Smith-style army boots, Marc Jacobs jackboots and a fabulous⁷ pair of banana-yellow boots from Céline with a fit so narrow they near give me a cardiac arrest each time I try and remove them.

　　我有七双运动鞋、两双雨靴、四双乐福鞋以及五双拖鞋。有些鞋，带有不同寻常的楔形雕花鞋跟，其它鞋则带着细长的高跟。我还有手工打造的木屐鞋（它们适合贵格会(Quaker)木匠穿）、路易威登(Louis Vuitton)系带式蛇皮细高跟鞋以及香奈儿(Chanel)黑头露跟鞋（最寻常的行头配上它后也立显高大上）。我有帕蒂.史密斯(Patti Smith)穿的那种圣罗朗(Saint Laurent)军靴，马克.雅可布(Marc Jacobs)的过膝军用长统靴以及一双美不胜收的Céline香蕉黄皮靴。这双Céline靴子太紧了，以至于每次穿与脱都快让我心跳停止。

　　The volume of shoes, and the creeping accumulation of their boxes, which are piled in stacked columns of teetering shoe-scrapers in every corner of the bedroom, are now the subject of considerable marital⁸ tension. The discussion usually begins with a question: “When are you going to do something about all these bloody⁹ shoes?” And ends with me arguing that excessive shoe ownership is, in fact, a job requirement. Which is facetious¹⁰ yet incontrovertible: if a fashion editor can’t own a stupidly tremendous number of shoes, then who the hell can?

　　大量的鞋加上越来越多的鞋盒（它们垒在卧室各个角落，堆成摇摇欲坠的“鞋楼”），如今成了我和老公关系极度紧张的源头。我们夫妻的争执通常从下列问题开始：“你打算如何处理这些该死的鞋？”争执的结果是：我振振有词地说这么多鞋实在是自己工作所需。结论是，话糙理不糙：时尚编辑都没有那么多鞋，那么到底谁还应该有？

　　And yet I concede. He does have a point. The bedroom does “look like a bedsit”, and the shoescrapers are entirely¹¹ foul¹² and ugly.

　　然而，我也得承认，老公言之有理。我们的卧室都快成客卧两用房了，“鞋楼”既难闻又难看。

　　However — and I make this point in deadly earnest — I need them all. Every last pair. In the great everyday saga¹³ of getting dressed, the right shoe can make the difference between abject¹⁴ discomfort¹⁵ and a sense of pure infallibility. Nothing else can punctuate¹⁶ a look so efficiently¹⁷ — shoes are the semicolon, comma, exclamation¹⁸ mark and full stop of an outfit’s expression. Get a tiny detail wrong, a millimetre in heel height, the wrong toe shape, and everything looks off.

　　但是，我发自内心想说：我真的需要这些鞋。每一双都有特定用场。在如今这个讲究穿戴行头的时代，穿鞋合适，是件大事，决定了自卑苦恼还是趾高气扬。想要行之有效地突出自己形象，莫过于在意脚上的鞋款——它决定了整个行头的效果差劲、一般、不错还是无与伦比。细枝末节稍有不慎，比如脚跟的毫厘之差、鞋头形状不当，整体形象就会大打折扣。

　　As I collect clothes with the exact same enthusiasm I do footwear, my shoe needs have seemingly multiplied. This goes with that, but not this, goes with that, goes with this. I never seem to have quite the shoe that I need. And so, as a result, I’ve gotten lost in an acquisitional shoe spiral, endlessly picking up variations of the same thing in search of fashion’s holy grail — the ultimate footwear solution.

　　当我以堪比买鞋的热忱购买衣服时，我对鞋的需求似乎一发而不可收了。这双鞋只能配那套服装，但配不了这套；这双鞋既能配那套服装，也能配这套服装。我似乎永远没有理想的鞋。因此，我陷入不断买鞋的恶性循环中而不能自拔，无休止地买进各式各样的鞋，以圆心中的时尚圣梦——一双理想的鞋。

　　It’s an issue that becomes even more urgent in winter, when coat lengths, hemlines and socks must be factored in. Winter shoes must traverse all kinds of environmental obstacles, and work with the seasonal¹⁹ trends. How does one balance the current crop of three-quarter-length culottes and midi-skirts, for example? What does one wear with a wide-legged tuxedo²⁰ trouser so sweeping²¹ it collects autumnal debris²² in its wake? An over-the-knee silver stiletto boot by Balenciaga may work marvellously well with those bold-shouldered blazer shapes, but not without an accompanying chauffeur²³? I do not lie when I say that such dilemmas²⁴ keep me awake at night.

　　到了冬季，选鞋尤为重要，因为此时大衣长度、裙子长度以及袜子都必须统筹考虑。冬鞋必须综合考虑各种不利的环境因素，而且还得与时尚流行风相契合。比方说，如何取舍如今流行的七分裙裤(three-quarter-length culottes)与中长裙(midi skirts)？长款宽腿礼服裤（可以说裤卷残云）该与啥衣服搭配？巴黎世家(Balenciaga)的银色过膝高跟靴也许与那些肩部醒目的运动上衣搭配效果最好，但没有私人司机随行是否会无此效果？我还是实话实说：权衡这种棘手问题让我夜不能寐。

　　Hence, it is with no small degree of excitement to announce that I may have found the answer. The footwear solution of autumn 2016 is a knee-high, block-heeled, tan-coloured boot. It’s a practical go-with-anything colour. It’s chunky enough to bash through a normal working day but works really well with a dress, and it tilts²⁵ towards this season’s 1970s trend without looking massively fashionable. The style first presented itself at the Etro show in Milan (at which I was, perversely²⁶, looking at clothes destined²⁷ for the shops next February), where the models wore a sturdy gaucho²⁸ boot with kasbah robes, kaftan silks and boiler²⁹ suits. They looked cool, they looked comfortable, and the looks were always perfectly³⁰ proportioned.

　　因此，当我宣称可能找到了最理想的鞋时，激动之情真是难以言表。我为2016年秋季选中的鞋就是棕褐色粗跟及膝靴。棕褐色可谓百搭色。厚实的鞋跟既能绰绰有余地应付正常忙碌的工作日，又能恰如其分地搭配各种裙装，而且它很好地因应了这个时装季流行的上世纪70年代复古风格（同时又没有时髦过头）。这种款式首现于埃特罗(Etro)米兰时装周：模特脚穿结实耐用的高乔人皮靴(gaucho boot)，身穿北非风格的长袍、土耳其真丝长袍以及连体工作服在T型台上走秀。这些装束显得既新潮又着眼，整体层次效果无与伦比。

　　The seed of an obsession³¹ was planted. And a short internet trawl later I found my boots at APC, the fantastic French fashion house at which one so often finds the things one really needs. This season, the store is selling an “Iris” boot (￡490), made in a thick, shiny conker-brown leather with a stacked square heel. I bought mine four weeks ago and haven’t taken them off since. They work with everything in my wardrobe and they never hurt. They weren’t cheap, but according to the fashion economy of cost-per-wear I reckon I’ll break even by Christmas.

　　自此，我可以说是为鞋消得人憔悴。稍微浏览一下网络，自己就在法国时尚名牌APC门店找到了心仪的鞋，这个网店通常能让时装爱好者满足心愿。这个时装季，APC门店正热销“Iris”方形叠跟款皮靴（售价490英镑），它由光亮厚实的深栗色(conker-brown)真皮打造而成。这双皮靴与自己衣柜的所有服饰都那么般配，彼此交相辉映。皮靴价格不菲，但按照时装经济学的每次着装成本衡量，我认为到今年圣诞节自己就能穿够本了。

　　Most importantly, the reason I know these boots are the solution is that every day I’ve worn them someone has approached me to ask where they’re from. Sartorial³² validation³³ has been secured in every instance: the woman in the audience of a talk last week who rushed up afterwards; the fellow editor sat on the front row; the fashion designer who recalled owning something “just like that in the 1970s”.

　　最重要的是，我清楚这双靴正中自己下怀的理由是：我每天穿着它上班时，总有人向我打听它是从哪儿买的。自己选对这双皮靴不断有实例为证：有位女听众在上周报告会后一再催问我皮靴的来源，坐在报告会前排的一位同行时尚编辑也是如此，某时装设计师回忆自己上世纪70年代曾有一双类似款式的“皮靴”。

　　Best of all, I’ve now been stopped five times (and counting) on the Tube to be asked about my boots. Smug? You bet I am. Not since I bought a pair of green suede³⁴ pirate boots (from Schuh in 1999) has a single item in my possession invited so much attention.

　　最让我得意的是：在地铁上已有五人次（而且还在不断增加）问及皮靴的卖处。感觉爽吧？当然啰。自本人1999年从Schuh门店购买一双绿色山羊皮海盗靴以来，还没有哪件行头获得如此高的关注度。

　　On the flipside, with the discovery of a solution, the shoescrapers are becoming daily more endangered, more likely than ever to be suddenly condemned³⁵. And so I’ve had to mix it up a bit to ensure a stay of execution. I may have found the ultimate winter footwear, but I still need all those shoes.

　　另一方面，淘到理想的鞋后，家里垒起的“鞋楼”的处境越来越不妙，遭遇“突然处理”的概率越来越高。所以嘛，我不得不间或穿穿它们，以延缓这些鞋“退出江湖”的日期。我最终也许能淘到理想的冬鞋，但目前我仍需要这些鞋发挥余热。

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