Scene at the Milonga

Forever Counted by Seconds

2006-10-03T09:37:00.000-07:00

How do you measure eternity?

By the gaze of your partner as it dwells in the hesitation of the music.

Stubby Comfort

2006-06-19T13:32:00.000-07:00

These may not make the porteñas of Buenos Aires go verde with envy, but these are the shoes to wear for that all-night milonga when you don't want your feet to hurt, and you know you're staying until the breakfast omelets start being served.

Eternal Heels

2006-06-18T11:49:00.000-07:00

The heels of tango shoes never get worn out. The man can only turn the woman when she is perfectly balanced and on the sweet spot of the toe of one foot. This is where she waits in painful, endless anticipation.

Suspending the Steps

2006-06-17T09:18:00.000-07:00

At the end of every step in tango, the woman needs to collect, and then do the hardest thing of all - wait.

There is no such thing as impatience in tango; waiting only increases the tension, and when the tension is at an unbearable point, the movement becomes a relief.

Underlined Stiletto

2006-06-16T08:08:00.000-07:00

The open toe cut out of a velvety suede invites, yet the tracery of red underlines and embraces the foot, yet creates a distance.

Spider's Web

2006-06-12T17:55:00.000-07:00

How can these shoes look so delicate and yet sustain the most elaborate and achingly sensual of adornos?

To see these is to know the tensile strength and ravishing beauty of a spider's web ...

Pale Toes

2006-05-21T09:13:00.000-07:00

I can't decide if blood-red nail polish would have taken away from these great silver-and-black shoes or would have made the dancer even more dramatic.
There's something to be said for the no-artifice sensual look of a naked foot.

The Antigravitational Tanguera

2006-05-17T08:20:00.000-07:00

At the end of each move, the tanguera's darting foot would stop, and the breathless split second of motionlessness would be almost painful as she waited for the next invitation. The anticipation was exquisite. Then the music would rush onward, and they would spin back into the crowded milonga.

The Exquisite Pain

2006-05-16T11:54:00.000-07:00

These shoes looked like the most exquisite pain possible. The brown trim and heels were actually a warmer color on the floor of the all-night milonga than the color they look in this steel-like photo. Open toes, too.

The Rebel Angel

2006-05-15T07:52:00.000-07:00

The song was Azúcar, pimienta y sal, and from the shuffling crowd of black shoes flashed these of blue. Rebelde y angelical indeed.

The Killing Heels

2006-05-14T16:39:00.000-07:00

The red of these shoes was for all of the blood spilled on all of the oak floors of all of the milongas La Rossa had ever danced on. 'When the revolution comes,' says La Rossa, 'kill first all the tangueras who can't keep their heels down.'

The Stiletto Cross

2006-05-12T07:33:00.000-07:00

She wore these shoes as though they were second skins, easily balancing, never a misstep. In these shoes, nothing the man could do surprised her.

Checkerboard Flash

2006-05-11T07:26:00.000-07:00

The flash of silver darted across the floor, hard to capture, a streak in the lightning of her boleos.

The Peek-a-Boo Slit

2006-05-10T07:53:00.000-07:00

The elegance of these slit pants made the peek-a-boo intrique of these strapped shoes even more delightful. She floated across the dance floor.

La Italiana's Capezio

2006-05-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

La Italiana swore her Capezios were comfy, but said they had very little cushion. 'You can always put some in,' she said with a shake of her glorious hair. True, true.

Soft Suede and Buenos Aires

2006-05-08T12:04:00.000-07:00

La Aventurera threw her foot up on the chair and declared that she would spend the next year in Argentina, hiring taxi dancers who are far too young and far too good looking for their own good to squire her to every milonga in Buenos Aires. These are the shoes she bought just minutes before the first tanda.