One of the first people that I followed on Twitter was The Not Drowning Mother. She is a constant inspiration to me not least because we are both obsessed with excretiae, fart jokes & good looking boys (in that order). She protects her anonymity fiercely, so I am particularly pleased that she has chosen to expose her ankles (and her shoes).
To be quite honest, I’ve always been more at the ugly step-sister end of the shoe spectrum than the Cinderella end. Any time I try to shove my big ol’ wide hoofs into a narrow “lady shoe”, it’s less “pretty” and more “Miss Piggy”. As for heels? Anyone who has ever seen me in a pair can tell you that it’s like watching a random member of a circus audience attempt the tightrope. It’s completely and utterly terrifying for all concerned, particularly if I happen to be holding a hot beverage or a pair of sharp scissors at the time.
But listen, I never wanted to wear stupid glass slippers, anyway. For one thing, it’s little surprise ol’ Cinderella lost one of her shoes as those glass soles wouldn’t have had much grip to them, right? Also, they present real health and safety issues: Cinders should count herself incredibly fortunate that neither shoe shattered on those dainty feet of hers and severed an achilles tendon. And the Fairy Godmother is even more fortunate that Cinders didn’t then sue her fairy ass for coming up with such a stupid footwear concept in the first place. Honestly!
So bearing all of the above in mind, is it any surprise that my Shoe of the Week is the flat cork-soled orthopedic comfort of the Birkenstock Tokyo Clog? Comfortable, hard-wearing, adaptable: you can dress them up (with sparkly pink socks) or you can dress them down (with hairy ankles and the kind of bare un-pedicured feet that give children and adults alike nightmares).
When I posted about the purchase of these little beauties on Facebook, I was floored by the reaction I got. People were deeply affronted by my lifestyle choice – disgusted, even. Who would have ever thought that sensible shoes would attract such anger?
But as Atticus Finch said in To Kill A Mockingbird “You never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them.”
And so I state for the record: I may have smurf feet, but I have happy smurf feet. And when I wear my Birkenstock clogs nobody is at risk of losing an eye or being doused in hot liquid. And thus everybody, ladies and gentleman, is a winner. Just don’t go asking me to any balls, okay?