OK, I just have to put this out there, because it’s been bugging the shit out of me. Just cause it’s summer doesn’t mean your feet shrunk two sizes, people. Just because you can get size 7 flip-flops on your nasty-ass size 9s due to the lack of firm boundaries doesn’t make it right. And yes, I’m talking to YOU Pizza Hut girl and your high-heel flip-flops (the wrongness of which is another post entirely), and YOU untitledmother-in-law and your cheap hooker sandals of brown patchwork vinyl and unsightly grommets, for which the purpose is not clear, if not to tie those damn things to a concrete block and drown them in a river.
By wearing the wrong sandals in clearly the wrong way, you’re taking advantage of the system and ruining the art for the rest of us.
To add a little construction to my criticism, let’s review. When it comes to sandals, we all know that there is a unspoken line of demarkation. Sometimes it is indicated by decorative stitching or contrasting footbed fabric. Other times, there is foot-shaped contouring that can be used as a guide. But every now and then, the boundary is invisible. The cues can be confusing. But regardless of shoe design, toes should not dangle and heels should not protrude. Period.
Now I know what you’re thinking. Somewhere along the line, you’ve been taught that wearing a smaller shoe actually makes your foot smaller. Well, that’s an urban legend. A small shoe does not necessarily equal a small foot. A small brain, maybe. But not a small foot.
If anything, go a size bigger — that will announce to the world that you are brave enough to buy the right size. Like a balding man who wears his hair cropped short, it will announce to the world that you are one confident motherfucker. Plus, people will know that they are messing with a sonofabitch, one who recognizes that a size 11 Manolo can inflict some serious damage.