For at least six months of year, the Sydney weather dictates the wearing of sandals. In Glasgow you would be lucky to be wearing sandals for six weeks of the year. The brevity of the UK sandal season is the only reason that I have ever been able to come up with for the hilarious national disgrace that is the British Man Wearing Socks & Sandals.
Recently the Noisy Boy insisted being seen in public, at a birthday party, with his school friends dressed thus:
Via the magic of Facebook, when I posted this photograph my cousin sent me a picture of my Uncle Billy not long after he emigrated from Paisley to California in the 1960s. He was wearing the dreaded socks n sandals combo.
I have long believed that men have an unhealthy relationship with their socks. Now I believe that it is genetic. It may be to prevent thier toe nails pinging off into the fire while the wildebeeste cooks or less interestingly for hygiene purposes, but I digress. The bottom line is this – you will never see a woman wearing sandals and socks. You may well see a woman wearing sticking plasters and sandals but that is only because we are prepared to suffer for our art.
I am pleased to report that I have had not one moment of discomfort wearing these sandals.
They even boast enough space at the sides for me to spread out my toes in Tadasana (Mountain Pose) while waiting for my train home.