Abby Hay

Photo: Brad Paris

How would you describe the shoes?
Sophisticated, never dowdy. They’re statement shoes. Women who like Sigerson Morrison like us.

The store’s named after the Brazilian owner.
Constan-sa. I visited her—she lives in the rain forest. In Rio, when they go out at night, they wear these ridiculously high heels because they’re driven everywhere. They had a valet at a house party I went to.

Where does she get her Brazilian done?
In Brazil, probably. The girls here go to the J. Sisters on 57th.

Do you play bossa nova at the store?
Sometimes. Getz, Caetano Veloso. We used to play a Buddha Bar lounge-mix CD, and I just wanted to throw it through the window.

Do you have a smart shoe-storage solution?
I use boxes, crates. I don’t put them under my bed, because, according to feng shui, it means the money is going to run away from you.

What’s your bad-weather shoe of choice?
Furry boots that look like Chewbacca.

Where do you fix your heels?
I swear by Arty’s on Eighth Avenue. He does the shoe service for Marc Jacobs. We’re buddies. I was a diver, so I have calves, and he stretches all my boots.

Any shoe trends you feel strongly about?
Those Frankenstein boots with square toes and chunky platform heels? Every time I see them, I want to scream.

Which shoes do you make love in?
I’m a freak about shoes on surfaces—when I see a shoe on a bed, I’m like, “Ew.”

Abby Hay