Sunday, September 19, 2010

On shoes...

Deuteronomy 33:25 – Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and as thy days, so shall thy strength be.



I don’t like feet.

I really don’t. And while I respect them are far as their functionality, they are bony, weird looking things that aren’t the least bit attractive to me. And I’m not so arrogant as to feel this way just about the feet of others. My feet are disturbingly hobbit-like, and I figure the less people see of them, the better. I’m aware that my opinion of feet isn’t particularly common, and it could be a strange result of being brought up in a morally conservative family. But I’d suffer people walking about shoeless on their hands if it meant the current trend of footwear was abolished.

Shoes today are overwhelmingly stupid. So stupid, in fact, that it’s difficult to understand why people continue to spend hard-earned money on them. As the transition to the fucked shoes (or ‘shucks’, as I call them) has taken less than a decade, the movement seems less like the natural evolution of clothing and more like an invasion of modern culture. The reasons why shucks shuck so hard are obvious. Firstly, the look. I walk down the street trying to work out where I was when Ugg boots with leggings (which aren’t pants by the by, no matter how many times you print yellow stitches or pockets on them) became popular. The one truly great thing about leggings is they match so many other shucks so well. Be it those stupid, overly wrinkly elf boots, ballet shoes, or ridiculous high-heels that are connected to the front of the shoe (but honestly, I dislike most high-heels. And basically all pointy shoes. Most men feel uncomfortable around sharp-looking shoes. But hey, maybe that’s the point). And let’s not forget the most practical of shucks; the gumboot. Once a functional shoe for wading through mud and cow manure, they’ve been adapted with such coatings as pink Che Guevara faces to wade through bleach, bogan saliva and the vomit of people like me.

While this is all good and disgusting, the footwear’s appearance might have been at least half bearable if the designs were somewhat more pragmatic. I was walking with some friends to my work the other day. The total walking distance was 1.1 km. About halfway through this incredible odyssey, one of my friends mentioned how her shoes were ‘killing her’, and wished we weren’t walking. Both she and I were shocked to find that, after searching deep into my very soul, I had absolutely no sympathy. Normally, I respond compassionately when a person is experiencing pain; physical or emotional. However, this particular friend had chosen to wear shoes entirely for their aesthetics over comfort and practicality. That’s when I realised I have very little patience for those who will put up with the aches, blisters and pieces of glass just to look ‘good’. I may as well wear shoe boxes filled with Lego pieces and Meccano spanners. This completely eliminates the point of shoes, and ridicules people like me who wear nice, comfy, cheap shoes.

You may have noticed that this is all mostly directed at women’s shucks and, as such, may come across as somewhat sexist. Which I completely agree with. Why should women in contemporary society be expected to wear shoes that do their body absolutely no good, and that everybody secretly hates (yes, that’s right. Culturally enforced sexualisation is a religion of sorts, and is fully capable of brainwashing its followers. Anybody you know who likes shucks or finds them attractive most likely has friends or family that do even more.)?

So next time you feel like going out clubbing or to a pub, slip on a pair of hiking boots or runners. You simply won’t believe how good your feet will feel, and you may even attract a higher quality of man/woman.

Or wear chucks. Who doesn’t love chucks?

3 comments:

  1. You're right but you can't into any decent nightclubs wearing runners.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "Strange result" indeed, given that one of your morally conservative parents owns 54 pairs of shoes, most of them shucks.

    ReplyDelete