Good Design Hides the Ground. My Heel Found It.

We Give Our Shoes a Wardrobe and Our Feet No Floor

I was pruning a high branch, up on my toes. When I brought my heels back down onto the grass, I felt a CRACKLE.

Barefoot, habit that travels.

It was a millipede.

I had crushed it in a garden I walk through every morning. I felt guilty for ten minutes, then moved its body to a corner and covered it with soil. The ‘crackle’ sound stayed with me all day.

I walk barefoot at home and in the garden, out of habit. On hikes I hadn’t planned for, I’ve crossed streams on wet stone, moss and loose pebbles, toes spread, muscles reading each surface before I thought about it.

Photo by ASR Design Studio on Unsplash

Most footwear brands make the same promise, high-performance, well-cushioned, light as air. An athlete or a celebrity as a brand ambassador, and the buyer takes home a little of their success. Some of my friends give their sneakers a whole wardrobe. Another is still saving for the shelf.