I was in Big Lots yesterday and found these faux lined Crocs. I call them faux not because of the lining, but because at eight dollars a pair, I'm sure they are not Crocs. No matter. My feet begged me, "Jennifer, WE NEED THOSE!!" So, I bought them and wore them proudly as I walked the children to school. One of the mothers commented on them. Apparently, she and her husband were sitting on the front porch as I strolled by, and Tom wondered aloud why I was wearing my house shoes outside.
Excuse me?
But...I thought they were faux lined crocs!! No one would accuse crocs of being house shoes. If anything, they're garden shoes.
Why would he think otherwise? Is it the inner lining? Is it the inner lining which so tastefully lines the outer edges of the shoes as well?
What makes shoes "house shoes"? Is it the look or the practice? I've seen people wearing house shoes out in public, and I think it's tacky. How do I know they're house shoes? The soft soles is a big indicator. The soft outside is another. Or maybe it is the multi-patterned sleeping bear on a pillow which gave it away. Sure, it's their right to wear their house shoes to Kroger, but why would they want to? House shoes have no support. They really don't have any protection from sharp objects like broken glass on the pavement or that freakin' little dog at the park with the long leash who attacks any person's ankles who can't outrun the length of his leash. Wearing your house shoes out in public reminds me of an old Seinfeld episode in which George is wearing sweat pants. And Jerry says something to the effect of wearing sweat pants out in public when you have no intention of exercising is like saying, "I give up." Sure, they're comfortable, but you look like a slob unless you're exercising, and then we forgive you because we know the sweat pants are serving a greater purpose.
How could Tom think I would, by wearing house shoes to walk my kids to school, signify "I give up"? How could he think that I care so little for my fellow man and woman that I would further slobify (my word) the world by choosing comfort over style? Do I not pick up the occasional piece of trash? Do I not pick up my dog's poo (and often the neighbor's dog's poo as well) and dispose of it in an appropriate place?
How could Tom think that I would do such a thing? How could he judge the crocs by their lining? How can he not tell a house shoe from a winterized garden shoe? And what's his deal with looking at my feet? What? Does pink stand out to him? Doesn't he have anything better to do, like sit on his BACK porch to be on the look out for the freak who stole his horned deer skull from the top of his garage? Should his wife not be worried that he notices and comments on the footwear of other women??!!