I throw caution to the wind!

One foot in

 In high school I had a short lived crush on a short boy named Darryl who once did a double take when he saw my feet.


Sigh.  My toes are pretty much the worst.  Read this post for the unfortunate backstory, if you are so inclined.


Anyway, I didn’t think much of Darryl’s artless gawking at the time, but in hindsight I guess I wondered why his eyes had widened in surprise.  It always struck me as an odd way to react to someone's feet, especially seeing as up until that time I had considered mine to be pretty cute.  Why had he looked at them like that?  In the years that followed, many, many people did double takes when they saw my toes, which subsequently led me to forgo any kind of summery shoe that didn’t adequately conceal my shame.


So I have ugly feet.  Why don't ya take a picture, it'll last lon-gah!  Stare bears.


How could I have lived such a large portion of my life harboring under the belief that my semi-webbed toes were cute, and that it was okay for my big toes to be a half inch taller than the rest?  I’m not really sure.  To this day my mother still maintains I have adorable feet, so there's one link to the mystery.  Being my mother and my most ardent supporter, I think she must feel it her duty to feed my delusions.


But with knowledge, comes great responsibility.  Learning you have ugly feet and then attempting to buy strappy sandals is kind of like watching Food Inc. and then trying to eat a 12 piece chicken McNugget: you can do it, sure; but you’re not going to feel great about it.


I watch other girls in the shoe aisle, all footloose and carefree as they make their selections, choosing any sandal they desire.  Betches!  Me, I have to find something with the appropriate coverage to shield the world from my grotesqueness.  Flowers help.  But who wants to wear flowers on their shoes all the time?  Ugh!  I want strappy sandals, GD it!  And I want to wear them with abandon!


The other day I wondered if maybe I wasn’t being silly.  I mean, what is the worst that could happen if I slipped on a pair of thong sandals and exposed my ugly little piggies?  Would the world end?  Would the Apocalypse descend upon us?  Would Corey Feldman begin singing and never cease?


The truth is, nobody would even notice.  And even if they did, they wouldn’t give a rat’s behind.  Sure, maybe I’d get a few funny looks; but that wouldn’t kill me, not that I know of.


And then I began to notice other females who wear tiny, itty bitty sandals.  Not all of them have pretty feet.  In fact, a lot of these women have downright ugly toes themselves.  Let face it, how cute are feet to begin with, anyway?  (If you have cute feet, please bite ‘cho tongue.  I’m having a breakthrough moment here, okay?? Jeesh!)


In this spirit of radical self-acceptance, the other night I painted my toenails for the first time in ages.  It kind of felt like putting lipstick and bronzer on a warthog, or the exact opposite of gilding the lily, but whatever.  I am going for it, okay?  I shall go forth with confidence, to hell with the consequences!  And the truth of the matter is…with the right sandal, and from the right angle, and if I take out my contact lenses so my vision becomes blurry…my feet look damn good.


Okay, not so much.  But it's my blog post and I'll write what I want to!  (Cue maniacal laughter now.)



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