When you can’t flip flop
I love everything about summer. I love shorts and swimsuits and sandals. I love the sunshine. I love being at a beach with the sand between my toes. I love cool water on warm skin. I love just about everything about it. (Except its end, of course.)
As summer wanes for many of us not living in Florida, the air chills and trees change color. We begrudgingly pull out socks and long pants and sweatshirts and mourn the end of flip flop season.
Except for me.
Because I have a confession.
I’ve never been a fan of flip flops.
There, I said it out loud.
I know that flip flops are fun. It’s easy shake the sand off of them after a day at the beach. They come in a rainbow of colors – neon even! They are quick on and quick off and a favorite summer staple for feet everywhere. I understand most readers won’t understand my aversion to them, but it a viewpoint I’ve held my entire life.
Flip flopping just doesn’t work for me – not even on the beach, except if you are sunbathing, of course.
When it comes to feet, I prefer to deal with real shoes. Something substantial and supportive – a brand rhyming with work-in-rock comes to mind.
When you flip flop, it’s practically impossible to have any substance, much less be supportive.
A shoe of substance provides the groundwork for every step forward. It provides safety, a strong foundation and the physical characteristics needed for good balance, comfort and safety.
A sandal that is supportive provides reinforcement to my foot and especially my arches. It provides good back-up in a very practical way. It upholds the values of my feet to exist in a healthy and attractive manner. (Especially if my toes are polished.)
But here’s my real, true and honest reason for an inability to enjoy the fun of a flip flop: they have that little piece – called a toe thong – that sits, rides and rubs in between the toes. This minor detail becomes major when you have extra-sensitive feet. That little divisive part of the flip flop is my own deal-breaker. It is uncomfortable. It hurts, and I don’t want to hurt while walking.
My toes want to stand together – united. Flip flops destroy that unity and leave the big toe out on his (or her) own. No toe wants to stand alone, at least not the ones on my feet.
So, my apologies to flip flops. They have stood the test of time and were invented around 1500 BC by the ancient Egyptians. Their introduction to the U.S. came after World War II, when soldiers brought them back from Japan. That’s a lot of history to disregard, and I don’t take that lightly.
However, as cheap, fun and easy flip flops may be, I choose comfort over any flashy beach statement they might make.
Bottom line, they hurt my feet, and therein lies the rub.
Flip flops: I regrettably can’t support you at this juncture in time, or more precisely at this juncture between my big toe and the other four. As sandals go, I’ve decided to pursue a different direction. I hope you understand.
I don’t think my lack of support will affect your future. You have a faithful following of both people and feet that don’t mind separated toes, not to mention bright, cheap beach footwear. Your future is on solid ground. Or at least as solid as a sandy beach can be.
