Flip-flops are kinda gross.

This occurred to me in a flash of clarity this spring: flip-flops are gross. I couldn't quite put my hand on what made them so repelling, but I knew they were giving me a serious case of the heeby-jeebies. Especially when coupled with the gnarled and disgusting feet of a man who's never known a pedicure a day in his life.

I was trying articulate this to my friend M this weekend, and then the best thing happened, someone at a very hip and cool publication just published an article that hits the nail on the head quite beautifully. I love it when that happens.

The writer, Dana Stevens of Slate.com, says

The crux of the flip-flop problem, for me, lies in the decoupling of footwear from foot with each step—and the attendant decoupling of the wearer’s behavior from the social contract.

Yes, I agree. Nothing in the social contract makes me feel like showing the underside of my feet to people in public is the right choice. It's not just the fact that flops are skimpy, because I have no beef with shoes like this. In fact, I own them. Stevens goes on to say,

Extended flip-flop use seems to transport people across some sort of etiquette Rubicon where the distinction between public and private, inside and outside, shod and barefoot, breaks down entirely.

He then goes on to rail against the "half-dressed slatternliness" of the flip-flop wearers, likening the practice to walking around in a robe. "Flip-flops are foot robes, and seeing hundreds of strangers walk by in dirty, sidewalk-sweeping bathrobes barely held on with loosely tied belts is no one's idea of summer fun," he says.

This last metaphor gets a bit carried away, but it definitely gave me a good laugh. Now lest you should feel awkward wearing flip-flops around me, don't worry, I'm not that serious about it. I just don't think I'll be investing in any foot-robes this summer. Turns out, I've become a bit of a prude in my old age.

<3