Red shoes are sex personified. Trashy sex and a little bit of danger (not always the funnest mixture I'd imagine but you get the picture.)
They say "Yeah, check me out, bitch, you know you wanna get all up in my shoe bidness."
These ones say, "Buy me. Buy me now or we'll walk out of here in the night, hunt you down and dance all over you until you die from it."
I say, "Back off bitches, you're from French Connection and you cost one hundred British pounds. Not only do I have no British pounds, I'm also saving all my clams for New York in January, where it's likely I'll find a pair of your sluttier cousins for half the price. Also, if I take you home now, all my other shoes will look crap and I'll want you all the time. It'll be like taking a lover - a sexy, red leather lover, and that rarely ends well.
I don't know what is about shoes that makes me talk like that. They're the sexy blonde lady to my Gordon Ramsay.