Thinking About Espadrilles

It is hot outside. So hot, in fact, that even the finest Italian leather sandals are bound to promote the growth of those inevitable heel blisters that seem indigenous to summer — when else is it even possible the bottoms of your feet can contract that much puss? — and always make walking, historically both healthy and enjoyable, frustrating and stressful.

I know this to be true because my feet found themselves in a pair of the aforementioned “fine Italian leather sandals” just yesterday and within just two city blocks — count that, two — the heels of my hooves were no longer hooves. Not that they are ever technically hooves. They were the victims of what seemed like ancient plague lucky #6: boils.

I refuse to allow this to become a new normal. All sorts of weird things are happening to my feet at the ripe age of 25. There are bunions reading to grow out of every direction and sometimes my big toe gets hairy (what?) but if you can’t count on the soles of your feet — the very foundation of your literal ability to stand — what can you count on, really?

In lieu of leather sandals and even sneakers and definitely boots, but in addition to clogs at large, this summer, I’m putting my money on espadrilles.

Reference points to construct the full look will include: Alexa Chung in denim shorteralls and again in jeans plus a striped t-shirt, one Italian man Charlotte showed me on Pinterest dressed in blue linen suiting, any version of a Riviera that de facto calls itself a Riviera and the fact that if I just wear them with my most reliable pair of denim cut offs with some version of a t-shirt every single day, that will be totally, totally okay.

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