So there’s this undeniable thing happening with shoes right now. They’re going insane. This is not new; shoes have been getting bigger and weirder for a few years now. But this season, they reached some sort of (ankle-) breaking point. They are clunky and spiky and outrageous, studded up like dog collars or all tricked out with vertiginous, inverted (Excuse me?) heels. At Rodarte, Prada, and Miu Miu, models stumbled—ouch!—and tripped—oof!—and wiped out completely—splat!—and it was impossible not to wonder: If professionals can’t make it down twenty feet of flat plywood while glued into their shoes—yes, designers have resorted to glue—how in the world am I going to make it across Lex? And the poor clothes. Sometimes the shoes were so fantastic the clothes were an afterthought. That’s a very pretty dress, Mr. Galliano, but hellooooo strappy, platformish situation down below! They are lovely little sculptures, these shoes, worth admiring and puzzling over the physics. But for traipsing around the real world: not so much.