I only had one agenda for my Sunday and it was Brooklyn. I owed my brother a Birthday feast and the Buffalo Bills were not playing for the week so no appearance on a Manhattan stool with a beer in hand this week for me. I only wanted exploration and I found it in the pheromones of the Brooklyn Museum of Art. I specifically wanted to conquer the “Killer Heels” exhibit now being featured until February 15th. I met Gylan two hours before closing time and insisted he handle the negotiation of the entrance donation. These situations suit him much better and we entered at a donation of $10 a person versus the suggested $16. Rebels I know. (You can enter the museum for free every first Saturday of the month.) “Killer Heels” is an exhibit filled with heels dating all the way back to 1600 and their role in the lives of women via high fashion, pop culture and day to day transformations into a body of confidence, sexiness or whatever role a shoe may play, even a source of pain. Portraits, short films and shoes on display give the onlooker a variety of connection points.
An interactive part of the exhibit allowed attendees to describe their relationship with heels and the result was a wall of expression and interactive art.
The five floors of the Brooklyn Museum house more than just an exhibit of shoegasims and stops on a few more levels off the elevator gave Gylan and I more art to digest.
The Brooklyn Museum, like many other museums, is a time machine, a capsule full of the past and present and whatever interpretation may find its way to you, is a break, an escape from any email, text or Facebook post that can find you. Not to mention the horrible cellular service in the museum, which is hopefully by design. The day was just as I pictured it to be and on our way to a restaurant insisted upon by our mother, (one of her true callings), we both took a look back and agreed to pause time and take a break from the world at another museum soon. Until next time.