THE TRUE STORY OF THE DR YES

Imagine a world where shoes aren't just accessories, but bold statements, thundering works of art.

That's the spirit in which I created the Dr Yes pump, an open-toe model with an 8.5 cm heel - a number chosen not for aesthetic reasons, but because it's the number of times I had to explain to my neighbor why I was measuring the sound of my footsteps on the stairs.

Dr Yes, a name that echoes James Bond's Dr No, was born of an idea as strange as its creator (i.e., me).

One day, while watching a documentary about pink flamingos, I was fascinated by their ability to stay on one leg. I thought: "What if a shoe captures this natural elegance, while adding a touch of espionage?" I know, I know, it doesn't make sense, but bear with me.

The creative process was a comic spectacle worthy of Benny Hill’s worst. I first tried to create a heel that could retract, like a gadget James would use. After several unsuccessful attempts and a near-fire (don't ask me for photos), I opted for the classic 8.5 cm heel.

But that wasn't all. To celebrate the beauty of the shoe, I decided to hold a fashion show in my living room the size of a Lego living room.

Imagine a dozen of my friends, walking around clumsily in pairs of Dr. Yes, tripping over my carpet and spilling dexterously prepared cocktails. It was magnificent chaos, an ode to imperfect beauty.

Ultimately, Dr Yes isn't just a shoe, it's an experience.

It's an expression of beauty in its rawest, most sincere state. And to those who say it's just a shoe, I say “Shoo! Why don't you go and buy your shoes from the other BIP!"

Ah, and before I leave you, I wanted to share with you this question I've been asking myself:
Why don't socks have a heel?