Rochelle, Rochelle

Several years ago I spent the night at a swanky hotel with that month's illicit paramour. This is of course before Miss Missives was in fact Miss Missives and got paid to leave the shoes on. I was what I would call easy but choosy and I chose right because we were up until the wee hours of the morning riding each other like roller coasters. Yes, John Mayer, my body is a wonderland.

I woke up ravenous and perused the room service menu for something good. As my eyes scanned over the poached this and frittata'd that, one magic word popped out at me, brûlée. No it wasn't the dessert menu it was breakfast, oatmeal brûlée to be exact. I was so hungry I ordered two. When it came, much like myself, it didn't disappoint. It was steel-cut Irish oats that must have been simmered in sugar and cream or half and half rather than water. It was like an oatmeal risotto, creamy, starchy, goodness. The top was covered with plump, pristine berries and the de rigueur brûlée crust that gave way as I broke through it with the silver spoon. It wasn't dessert, it wasn't breakfast, it was a little piece of post coital serendipity.

I bring this up because there is Crème Brûléed oatmeal and there is oatmeal. Rochelle over at Shoe Porn is serving up heaping spoonfuls of oatmeal, sans the brûlée, minus the fresh berries, maybe with a meager handful of bottom-of-the-box raisins thrown in.

On her first post she warns us,

this is not a foot fetish blog, please move right along.

Too bad says Miss Missives, it might liven things up a bit around there. If you want some hot this little piggy went to market action, you'll have to go here or here because Shoe Porn is pretty much just a bunch of shoes.

Now I love shoes as much as the next girl but the danger of blogging about one thing almost exclusively is you run the risk of banality. Remember, Sex in the City featured shoes as it's 5th cast mate but it wasn't the star of the show. Seeing post after post about shoes with little real passion or heart is like looking at someone else's stamp collection. Thanks, no. The unfortunate part of all this is that Rochelle can write. I don't know if she's really shoe-obsessed or maybe just felt her blog needed a hook. She may have a true passion for shoes but the shoes and the writing don't come together to form anything even remotely meaningful.

The blog design is simple which I generally like, however, for something as vivid and graphic as fashion, design is paramount. Would you marry a beautiful pair of Christian Louboutin perfection with a drab, boxy dress? Likewise, the sidebar looks like a woman who can't stop with one simple fetching accessory and instead bedecks herself with a slew of sparkles and spangle. The drop down archives are good, the About Me weak and in general, the whole thing feels terribly half-hearted.

My advice Rochelle is to close it down and start fresh. Write about living in South Africa, write about your job, your love life, even about your shoes, just not exclusively. Don't be affected or purposefully coquettish or clever, just be yourself. Because really, I think you can write but this blog is about as useful as two left shoes.