My Birkenstocks
I could hardly wait to get home, so I could slip on my Birkenstocks and play outside with our bundle of energy dog. My current Birks and our dog are close in age. After much wear and tear on Canvas kicks, my partner suggested a new pair of Birkenstocks. For him, the open sandals offered breathability and comfort and would work well with how our dog and I played, especially during the summer months.
Of course, he was right; plus, I liked seeing loose dirt on my toes because it reminded me of my childhood when my sister and I would run barefoot in Florida. Having no shoes on — outside — was a near felony in our family, but like most siblings, close in age, we loved that unspoken sacred pact of rebellious power. Often, when play took us away from our parent’s close watch, it would be OFF with the shoes. Now that I am over 50, running around barefoot is less about rebellion and more about balance, so Birkenstocks it is.
In college, I had friends with Birkenstocks, but I hated their Birks because of the metaphors I associated with them: lazy and hippy. Those were two words I did not want attached to my feet. Not that my friends were lazy hippies, of course. Not all of them were, but I think some of them wanted to be, hippies at least.
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I, on the other hand, was far from interested in that look. I was experimenting with other trends like the Halston 70s vibe, and, for some reason, I had an obsession with chunky heels. The taller and fatter the platform heel the better. Chunky patent leather heels — black if possible. They were the antithesis of flat brown Birks. However, it would be unfair if I did not share the other, more superficial, reason I hated the Birk look: size.
Because I fell under the petite category, wearing a giant brown pair of Jesus-looking sandals enhanced everything I hated about myself: my large feet and my height. Sorry Birks but having big feet (falling somewhere around 39) and an under 5 ‘5 stature would not exactly boost my self-esteem.
Why my younger self thought chunky heels would be better is beyond me.
Now I am older and have a partner who loves me and my feet, so I do declare that I could not imagine my life without Birkenstocks. In fact, I am on my second pair. Birks give me exactly what I need: breathability and comfort. More importantly, they allow me to balance the middle-aged woman I am now with the carefree and rebellious girl I used to be.
Barefoot. Dirty toes and all.
