I love my shoes. I love my shoes!
My feet no longer sing the blues
I’ve tried them all—I’ve paid my dues
And now—at last—I love my shoes!
I’ve tried the best of hiking boots
On crowded streets and private routes
(I’ve even worn them with my suits)
My feet don’t care for hiking boots
And running shoes with padded soles
Assured me I would reach my goals
Their argument was full of holes—
My feet just ached in padded soles
My Tevas and my Birkenstocks
I’ve worn both with and without socks—
They yield some thousand natural shocks
…I’d just as soon wear LEGO blocks.
My shoe—the Vivobarefoot Ra—
(No padded sole at all—hurrah!)
I sigh aloud, a vocal “aaaahhh…”
I love my Vivobarefoot Ra.
This is an unsolicited but enthusiastic endorsement; I am receiving nothing from the Vivobarefoot people (my shoes were a gift, but from my kids, not from the company). My feet have hurt for enough years that I don’t give a rat’s ass if someone thinks this post has me selling out.
Shoes are important. Good shoes are amazing. I honestly didn’t know this until mere months ago, when I got these shoes for cephalopodmas. I had always relied on the false economy of cheap shoes, and I was accustomed to my feet hurting on a regular basis. I assumed it was part of life. I bought padded running shoes, and my feet still hurt. Such is life, no?
Then, the cuttlekids bought me shoes for cephalopodmas. Shoes. The gift that tells you “you are old!”. Or so I thought. Then I tried them on.
These shoes are wonderful. They are like walking barefoot. (disclosure—I have played Frisbee barefoot for forever, so barefoot is not so much second nature to me as… well, first nature)
There are two problems, and a kajillion good things.
The kajillion good things? They feel wonderful in a kajillion ways. And they look good (warning—I have no taste, so they might not actually look good. But I think they do!)
The two bad things? One… unless you protect them, the leather in the uppers is vulnerable to water (and salt water) in slushy streets.
Two… one of the great things about any shoe is how wonderful it feels to take it off. The Vivobarefoot Ra robs you of this feeling. You take off the shoe, and your foot feels…. Roughly the same as it did when the shoe was on. Your toes have room, the shoe can flex… it’s like being barefoot, except that it is presentable in the office!
Proper shoes are not a luxury; they are a necessity. Yes, these shoes were a gift, but I guarantee you I will be buying another pair very soon (I don’t have a black pair yet) for teaching, for meetings, and (who knows?) maybe for a wedding. These are good looking shoes, and they are comfortable—even when (especially when?) compared to padded running shoes!