Ladies, listen. When Manolo dies, there will be no more Manolos. There is no heir or protégé. No big luxury goods conglomerate like LVMH waiting in the wings. No. No. No. When Blahnik has gone to that great shoe box in the sky, Manolos are finished. Done. Not for Manolo Blahnik a label without the real person behind it. Not like Christian Dior (died in 1957), Coco Chanel (1971), or Roger Vivier (1998), labels that survive under the aegis of others. Consider Salvatore Ferragamo (died in 1960) whose dynasty rests in the hands of his children and grandchildren. Blahnik darts off to fetch a photograph of the Italian who immigrated to California in 1914 and became shoemaker to the stars. The photograph shows Ferragamo, his big, broad face and broader smile, surrounded by the lasts of the actresses—Greta Garbo, Rita Hayworth, Sophia Loren—for whom he made shoes. "Look at that face," he says. "He is a peasant! Brilliant. But a peasant!"

Ferragamo insisted style was not enough; shoes must be comfortable. And Blahnik? What about complaints that his shoes are torture? "I haven't heard that," he responds. "Women tell me they love my shoes. Some never take them off."

But isn't a shoe really a corset for the foot?

"Yes. But a corset you adore."

The mood shifts. Blahnik turns somber. The day before, an earthquake in Pakistan has killed 73,000, leaving uncounted injured, obliterating entire villages. The headlines weep tragedy. "I am embarrassed," he says. "People are dying and I do these frivolous things." The hand slaps his forehead as if in penance, then he opens a cupboard. There are six rows of shoes. They gleam like treasure. He lifts one out. "This one is inspired by Catherine the Great," he explains, placing the shoe on the table for contemplation. It is a glorious fantasy of silk brocade, velvet ribbons, chinchilla: lush, powerful, yet fragile.

Still, it is pointed out, it is only a shoe.

Blahnik nods. "Yes, only a shoe, but if I provide escape for the woman who wears it, if for only a few minutes, it brings a bit of happiness to someone, well, then, perhaps, it is something more than a shoe."