Barefoot running has gone out there and really achieved semimainstreamishness. This makes me feel good inside. I got my FiveFingers a good two and a half years ago (before they were cool), and I’m well convinced that we all wear way too much shoe most of the time. I don’t go for runs, per se, but I do enjoy wearing my Fives for sets of sprints in the grass. I do some other outdoor workouts in them, too, and the increased sensation and control I have in my feet feel great. Plus, I think it’s probably healthier.
I haven’t gone quite as all-out as some of the FiveFingers crowd, who wear them even to weddings and funerals. I like the Fives, but I still recognize that they look ridiculous. I’ve worn them in non-workout settings (like going to the store) a few times, but I always feel mildly embarrassed. A stiff pair of dress shoes definitely trumps them for aesthetics.
Still, I wish America had more of a barefoot culture. It’s one of my favorite things about traveling in Asia. In Korea in autumn (when I was there), they don’t go barefoot much, but they at least go in stocking feet in homes, temples, and most traditional restaurants. The stack of shoes in front of a popular lunch place is a sure sign you’ve found one of the real spots.
And in Southeast Asia, where no one ever wears more than flip-flops, you get the authentic barefoot culture. Shoes come off in restaurants, temples, mosques, homes, guesthouses, and other places. In just four months traveling there I probably saw more Asian feet than I will ever see American feet. Little children’s feet, strong men’s feet, dainty women’s feet, wizened old hags’ feet with stains from the betel nut juice dripping out of their appalling mouths. It was delightful.
I don’t know why I enjoy all that barefootism so much. My feelings for feet are neither sexual nor obsessive, but I’ll be damned if I don’t just like them an awful lot. Barefoot people always look somehow happy and carefree—the type of people who would just be good to have around.
Hi, pretty barefoot water maiden, would you like to marry me?
Hey, laid-back barefoot dude, want to play frisbee and listen to Built to Spill?
Hi, adorable barefoot children, would you like to join my family? I have a new barefoot wife who would love to be your adopted mother.
In seriousness, though, there’s definitely a greater intimacy among a group of barefooters than there is among others. In those Korean restaurants where everyone is sitting on the floor in their socks, you find a cozy familiarity that you’d never find in a Western establishment with everyone shoed up. You’re all just sitting there, hanging out, shoes off, having shed a little bit of that shell we wear in the outside world.
I never wear shoes at home. When I visit friends or family, I typically take my shoes off immediately. It has little to do with cleanliness and much more to do with that feeling of exhilarating freedom you get when ripping those things off your feet. When people wear shoes in my apartment—even immaculately clean ones—I really want to ask them to take them off. I just don’t feel like we’re truly hanging out and relaxing until we’re all foot-naked.
But we’ll let George Clinton have the last word on this one:
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