Barefoot

As those who know me in person (I like to think that my online persona is a little more restrained, and possibly refined) will gladly tell you, I like to take everything just one step up from normal.

So if my high school spirit week included a pajama day, I would not just dress up in my jammies, I would bring a pillow and a blanket, and pretend to take naps under my desk. Does my employer demand we dress "business casual" from Monday through Thursday? I will look like the next presidential hopeful with my black pumps, grey dress suit, starched button down, and French twist. Did you just share a slightly salacious joke? I'll tell you one that would make sailors blush. I'll stop right there, but you get it, I'll one-step-up just about everything. At times, maybe even two steps up. Or three. However, many, it's always to the extent that people around me wonder what I'm thinking (or not thinking, obviously).

And today I believe I might have taken another American custom up one step. Or perhaps a step-and-a-half. The American custom I'm talking about is to keep a pair of nice shoes in the office, and wear old flip flops/sneakers on the commute to and from work.

I used to never partake in this custom, not even when living in the US. Not even when I had to walk five blocks. Not even when it's a 100F outside. Not even when I had navigate a gigantic parking lot, weighed down with a bookbag, laptop bag, purse, lunchbox, and a coffee mug. Never. As a European raised with the idea that sneakers are for sports and flip flops for the beach, I would never ever ever ever ever wear anything other than nice leather shoes to and from work. I had perfected my ability to run in heels of any height (permanently shortening my achilles' tendon in the process, I'm sure), and knew how to use those same heels to create a little space for myself on a crowded train, bus, or subway. So when I moved here, I continued the custom. I would totter and trip, and my feet pounded by the end of the day, but (say the following with gritted teeth) I was not wearing sneakers to work.

Well, then came summer. And our dress code relaxed. And I decided that for the one day a week I would go into work, I could wear a nice pair of flip flops. But the moment August 1 rolled around, I broke out my pumps and just told myself to grimace and bear it.

But somehow this past summer, when August 1 came up, I just wasn't quite ready to fire the flipflops just yet. So until this past Monday, when our students came back, I sauntered around in my flipflops. And although I brought my pumps in on Monday, I decided to drive and walk to my office in those same flipflops. And then when time came to go home Monday night, I decided I might as well leave my pumps in my office, and walk out in my flipflops again. On Tuesday, I went as far as to only put m pumps on when I was teaching, and conduct my necessary walks to various offices across campus in my flipflops. And today, well today I really took it all one step up. When I took my two-inch heels off after teaching class, instead of putting my flip flops on, I just left both pairs of shoes in the corner, and sat behind my desk in bare feet.

Yes, bare feet.

Now, in all honesty, my desk hides most of my legs and my feet, but still. It feels quite revolutionary to be talking to students who are completely oblivious to the fact that I'm stretching and flexing my toes as I'm talking to them. My feet love this sudden freedom, and I do too.

Now I just need to make sure I don't step out of my office barefoot. As that is one extra step I'm not sure my employer would appreciate.