Not for nothing is a feeling of tortured anticipation known as waiting for the other shoe to drop.
After writing last week on one of a duo of abiding passions for women, bags, I felt a debt to lovers of the other, shoes.
I wondered whether my sleuthing would find the same fascinating and hilarious mix of fact and fiction about the other thing in a woman's life guaranteed to win her heart - and chequebook. Would it what!
One glossy magazine devoted entirely to footwear happily described its readers as shoe-aholics. Anyone could define themselves as such "if your heart rate increases when you see a gorgeous pair of shoes in a shop-window, [and] would rather go without lunch/job/boyfriend to buy a pair of Jimmy Choos, Manolo Blahniks or Sergio Rossis".
In all honesty, many of us were only initiated into this bank-breaking world courtesy of the television show Sex and the City, in which lead character Carrie Bradshaw tottered about on stilettos, her labels of choice Blahnik and Choo.
One episode was even titled A Woman's Right to Shoes and involved a pair of $485 Blahniks. And in a real-life-imitates-art twist, the shoe designer who gave his name to his footwear created the "SJP", an ankle-strap stiletto, for Sarah Jessica Parker, the actress who played Carrie.
Clearly, what ties are to men, shoes are to women. They may be too tight, too short, too long or bizarre but without them constricting the appropriate piece of flesh the ensemble is just not complete. We must have that sole and without our uppers we are down.
And from what beginnings the Choos were born - just after we slipped from primordial slime on to the first sharp bit of scoria. Bark, leaves and grass in hot climes, apparently, and slaughtered animals in cold. Not much has changed over the millennia.
Kiwi sisters Cushla and Angela Buswell, of Minx Footwear in Waikanae, launched their first shoe collection in 2001 using native Moki fish skin for uppers. They followed the world-first innovation a year later with another when they incorporated paua shell into their range and in 2003, with the Wool Research Organisation, commercialised a new wool fibre for shoes.
In a world awash with footwear - an estimated 21 billion pairs are bought every year - our shoe manufacturing industry manages to keep a toehold.
It is not as lively as it once was, thanks to the economic reforms of 1986 that did away with much of its protection. Production dropped from nine million pairs of shoes in the 1970s and '80s to 1.3 million pairs in 2000-01.
Now there are mostly niche market operators and creative design types - nearly 50 companies mostly employing fewer than 20 people. But the sector is still worth more than $65 million and exports over half its production.
Annually, each of us on the planet takes home an average of five pairs of shoes (not taking into account the Imelda Marcoses among us) and an American study concluded that we put them into four categories. They are "feminine and sexy", "masculine," "asexual or dowdy", and "young and casual" - heels, boots, sneakers and sandals.
I suspect it is only in the feminine and sexy category that we would find shoes to be worn between the car and restaurant. Why do so many women insist on swooning for uncomfortable shoes?
Historically, men have been just as guilty of putting vanity before ease, but according to the fascinating shoeinfonet website, for a long time shoemakers didn't do us any favours. Despite hundreds of years of development in shoes, "comparatively little attention was devoted to fitting qualities or comfort".
This history suggests that when you've felt that your shoes were really honed by medieval torturers, you were probably right.
"When the medieval guilds controlled craftsmanship in Europe, perfection in workmanship and extravagance in style seems to have been sought in shoes rather than foot comfort and protection.
"Among the more conspicuous oddities of style in this period was the peaked shoe or Crackow, with a toe so long that it made walking difficult, if not impossible, and the passage of laws to prohibit its wearing was necessary before it was discontinued.
"As late as 1850, most shoes were made on absolutely straight lasts with no difference between the right and left shoe. Breaking in a new pair of shoes was not easy."
But there are times when we could all be a bit kinder to our feet and more sensible about our shoe passion.
"Someone I know had an accident on her moped," recounted one woman. "The reason she did was because she was looking down and admiring her new slingbacks at the time."
<EM>Philippa Stevenson</EM>: If the shoe fits, we probably won't wear it
Opinion by
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