Crutch-free but Aircast, I limped in for a lap around Holt’s this weekend. Since there are no high heels in my immediate future, of course I was drawn to the shoe department, where greenhouse-grown tomato red pumped-up platforms seemed to straddle every display, across the designer divide. This pigment is no blushing pre-teen peach. This is full blown, in-your-face, plan-your-outfit-from-the-ground-up to grow from the hot hue of non-organic fruits injected with color-inducing chemicals. Splat!
Preparing for battle, Prada upgrades their classic patent leather platform to a juicy peeptoe. 
Gucci drives an accelerated edge of souped-up salmon into their wedged weapon of choice.
Miu Miu’s patent pump packs sly stilletto sparkle.
Tangential forces take Jimmy Choo’s tangerine to another level of fructose friction.
But blood orange doesn’t have to mean blood blisters. Prada waves the neon cantaloupe flag with a low-heeled peace offering to flatlanders everywhere. But an actual tomato truce? Never. There ought to be a festival or something. 
