If the stomach is the way to a man’s heart, shoes are windows to a woman’s soul.

If the average man thinks about sex every seven seconds, the average woman thinks about shoes at least every second.

Do flowers, cards, and/or candy make special Valentine’s Day gifts?

Sure.

Would a pair of perfect pumps be better?

Umm, heck yeah.

The mere thought of stillettos, slingbacks, “sinsational” sneakers or even sparkling flip flops is enough to drive some women into a state of mumbling, fumbling ecstasy.

It is no wonder that shoe manufacturers, web sites, and brick mortar shops are now trying to tap women’s seemingly genetic need for cute, sexy or/and sassy footwear.

In ads, shoes are as red a hot a lover as Antonio Banderas has ever been.

A pair of office girlfriends practically go orgasmic over the steamy, available shoes on a computer screen in a Justfab.com commercial that has been airing.

“Shoe passion” reaches another level in a press release my boss recently passed along from Love Be Loved, another online shoe store.

“Next to diamonds, shoes are one of a girl’s second best friends, and they are more affordable,” it says.

As Valentine’s Day creeps ever so close, my thoughts drift to the dream of Shoetopia — the magical place where every shoe fits and is extraordinary and the ideal price: free.

Typical red-blooded shoe enthusiasts like myself would visit this village of wonder from time to time.

The shoe-obsessed would call it home and swim daily in leather rivers teeming with leaping wedges, peep-toes, Mary Janes, etc.

No one would judge us.

All this shoe marketing leaves out a very important fact: a shoemance can be more of a precocious proposition than a romance with a flesh and blood human.

There is a good chance your shoes will hurt you (literally), particularly if they are exceptionally attractive.

And it is likely the relationship will end during the most inopportune time.

Maybe I am too rough on them, but I’ve never met a pair of shoes that could stand me for the long run.

They split and, when times get tough, they break.

I still recall each and every time a high heel has broken just in time for an important occasion.

Like a common shoe shopper in DSW, I have been left high, dry and hobbling on the side of the road.

This is why I’ve resolved to “luv” my shoes.

Despite the marketing, I’ll save “love” for people, pets and cheese.

Contact this columnist at (937) 225-2384 or arobinson@DaytonDaily News.com.