My grandfather sold shoes, and my father sold shoes.  I have referred to my mother, my two sisters and me as "Imelda and the Imeldettes." We once had our closets reconfigured by professionals, and the woman who designed the closet was unbelievably proud of having squeezed 48 shoe compartments into the designated space — the most she'd ever put in a closet.  I thanked her, but said that in our family, 48 would qualify merely as a good start.

All that is to say that during some commando Chanukah shopping a few weeks ago, I found myself somehow amid the sale racks at Nordstrom's salon shoe department.   Not that I needed anything, but in deference to the Manolo, I had to stop in.  Lots of Prada and other high-end labels, and none of it yet reduced to attainable prices — but one thing caught my eye.  Let me backtrack a bit:  It appears that I've developed a taste for driving moccasins, as three pairs now populate my closet.  This one, by Michael Kors, is just adorable:

                                                             

And since my husband just found himself a nice little roadster to satisfy his midlife crises, I just have to be properly shod when I get the opportunity to drive it, right?  I noticed several cute pairs of driving mocs, and then looked inside to check the brand and just guffawed: "The Original Car Shoe."  Say what?  I couldn't have picked a less distinctive name if I tried.  The PTO thinks so too, although they only required a disclaimer of "car" when the mark is used on goods other than shoes.  The brand was bought by Prada in 2001, but I just don't see much traction (ha!) with the name, when the full name, "The Original Car Shoe" is essentially an admission that it's generic.

But my guffawing didn't stop with the name.  No, there's a tagline as well: "Patented in 1963."  Say what again?  What does the public take away from that tagline, and can that takeaway be anything other than misleading when most people wouldn't realize that the term of the patent had long expired?  Put differently, the average purchaser of this shoe likely concludes from this tagline that the shoe has some technological advantage; those in the know, however, realize that the tagline merely acknowledges the contrary.