Back in New York, where I keep a small one bedroom apartment close to the airport, I’ve got a closet full of shoes, beautiful shoes that, before I got married, have been on quite a few really great dates, shoes that have seen things that most people only dream about. I love shoes. I really do. But in LA, I’m sad to say, the only shoes I wear are the flops pictured to the left, and a beat up pair of Asic Kayano running shoes. And I was fine with that. I really was. Until a couple of months ago.
Flash back two months ago. There I was, sitting at my computer, drinking my coffee, and wearing my favorite green cropped cargo pants, a white tank top, and my beloved flip flops. They’re vintage Old Navy – 2005. So anyway, I’d just finished reading my emails when I decided to check out a blog, and it wasn’t just any blog, this blog was written by Margo, one of the women in my writing group. Now before I continue, I must say that I’ve always admired Margo’s cool, yet sophisticated, and sassy style. In fact, every time I see her I think to myself, I’ve really got to go shopping. By far, she’s the best dressed in the writing group. She’s also a very talented, and published, women’s fiction writer. There is much to admire about Margo. Though she does not know I am writing this, she does know how I feel about that one particular, and torturous, post she had on her website about shoes. After I told her how it had made me feel, I struck a pose so she could admire my brand new brown leather espadrilles. I do not think she found them too impressive. Oh well. So anyway, I have cut and pasted her words below. Please enjoy…
I don’t wear flip flops, not even in the privacy of my own home. When we first moved back to Los Angeles a couple of years ago after a decade (for me) in San Francisco, I was really grossed out to see almost bare feet everywhere I went with a strip of molded plastic dissecting the toes and the rest of the foot spilling out onto the street. Feet, as a rule, are not cute and man feet are even less cute. Man feet, all hairy and knobby, in a pair of plastic foam flip flops has to be one of the grosses sights out there.Let me stop here and make the distinction between sandals and flip flops because there is one. I wear sandals, not flip flops, ever. I have a couple of pairs of leather T-strap sandals that look nice with jeans and shorts and feel no need to augment those two selections with any additions–I’m just not a sandal person. And there is such a thing as nice looking sandals for men. I’ve seen them. But like a bra, many must be tried on to find the right fit and look because when you get it wrong, it looks just so wrong. I made the mistake encouraging the husband to buy a pair of sandals after I spied a chic European tourist wearing a very spiffy pair. Mistake. I’ve gone as far as hiding them and throwing them away but like the doll from that Twilight Zone episode, they just keep turning up again to torment me.Anyway, since I’ve sworn off flip flops I have to find something stress free and comfortable to wear this summer with my limited warm weather wardrobe–I also don’t own a pair of cropped cargo pants and only wear tank tops with a built in bra when doing yoga. So what to do? Buy ballerina flats, of course! But not just any ballerina flats–London Sole ballerina flats. The husband bought me back a couple of pairs when he was in London a few years ago (there they’re known as French Sole) and I wore them until they fell apart. Which was good because they ain’t cheap. The pair I have my eye on (the Annie, top left) dip into the $200 range….
In case you didn’t notice, I highlighted the part that almost made me spit out my coffee, rip off my tank off, change into a pair of jeans, and throw the flops into the garbage. I’m Margo’s worst dressed nightmare! Now I can’t breeze into my closet and slide into the flops the way I had months ago. Oh sure, I’ll start to go for the flops, but then Margo’s damn blog will pop into my head, which then makes me look for another pair of shoes to wear, and after I’ve tried on a couple of different pairs, and cursed those same different pairs, I self consciously put the flops back on and eventually get on with my day. This happens every single morning. Thanks, Margo. Thanks a lot. But the truth is, I like my flops, and will continue to wear my flops, and maybe one day I’ll get over Margo’s blog. I hope.