Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Footwear and First World Guilt

My feet hurt.

They hurt real bad (read in best Napoleon Dynamite voice).

This year, there's a no sneaker policy except for Fridays and for classrooms that involve actual running.  This is rough for me because if there's anything that rivals my love for flip flops, it's new tennis shoes.  So it's "nice" shoes and sandals 4 days a week, and while I have some, they're not especially comfortable for walking all day.  And they don't give me the same thrill as this.

One of my fellow teachers swears by TOMS and wears them practically every day.  But I can't do it.  I get that they're eco-friendly and charitable and all that, but my big ol' feet look like some kind of pirate-clown in them.  I've tried on various colors and styles and such but to no avail.  Plain, sparkly, bright red, basic black... it doesn't matter.  I can't pull it off.

My overly guilty conscience and world-worry is completely disgusted with my vanity too.  I mean, the whole One for One campaign (which I think of as "buy a pair, and we give a pair to a kid who's a million times worse off than you, jerkface" promotion) really weighs on me.  Like, I'm the person who can't resist the little kid fundraisers or Girl Scout cookie time or the UNICEF trick-or-treaters.  I still feed the stray cat on my front porch, for cryin' out loud (it's been 2 years).  I'm not a terrible person who turns a blind eye to those who are suffering.  So I typically feel pretty good about putting enough positive karma back out into the world.

But then I see a picture like this.  It's like she's looking directly at me, saying, "That's okay, Capitalist Pig.  Enjoy your Thin Mints and overpriced wrapping paper while I avoid losing my toes to gangrene and venomous snake bites every day of my life."

I mean, seriously.  COME ON with your genius marketing guilt.  Then there's Blake, the hometown boy, looking all ruggedly handsome doing good in his red pirate-clown shoes, and I feel even worse about my inability/refusal to lend to the cause.

And don't even get me started on my Nike guilt.

Now footwear gives me not only physical but emotional pain; this must be another price of getting old.  Maybe I should just buy a pair for one of my younger, trendier friends, and call it even.  Can I request that my giveaway go to that little girl specifically?  I'll even throw in a box of Thin Mints.

Man.  All of this would be solved if I could just wear my flops.  *sigh*  Is it Friday yet?

No comments:

Post a Comment