One can easily become a synesthete by viewing the artwork of Manolo Blahnik. His shoes are like the fragrance of a fine perfume, with the length of their heels a measure of their musk. If the senses become superposed when turning the pages of this book, it is because each illustration seems to be created ex nihilio, with total originality and no remembrance of the prior page. Each design always instills a shortness of breath, and the imagination wanders to the legs of the women on which they might decorate. It is there that this architect of the foot finds his optimal expression. It is there where the geometry and color of his stilettos find their display as a natural canvas. The femininity then grows beyond bounds, and masculinity finds itself delightfully mesmerized. One can view this art from afar or close up; either way provokes admiration and desire, and a possible reconfiguration of the woman from standing to supine. Such a consequence seems inevitable, and is a testament to the power of the Blahnik shoe.