Flip-flops and the Feet of Men

Do the seemingly endless clouds of this wet summer have a silver lining? The cold has meant their is less skin on display. Not just any skin, but feet. And not just any feet, but the feet of my fellow men.

Lets start at the beginning. In the past, men’s feet were so seldom on display that their neglect never much mattered. Men who wore sandals were mocked. Rubber sandals were worn in campsite showers to prevent the spread of verrucas. Socks were removed at bath time and before bed.

Sadly, in recent years, the flip-flop has migrated from its natural (and rightful) home, the beach, and has for many become the summer shoe of choice. Yet however sartorially deplorable the flip-flop may be, and it is a harrowing indictment of our aesthetic sensibilities, it is not the flip-flop itself that is the cause of my ire. Taken alone, the flip-flop is an ugly but inoffensive thing.

The trouble is feet. Some men’s feet are unsightly. The terrible trio of hair, dead skin and untended toenail is a deeply unpleasant sight. Men who devote a considerable amount of time to shaving and moisturising and otherwise treating their face – the cosmetics industry like to call it ‘male grooming’ or 'manscaping'– believe their feet, for some unfathomable reason, to be out-of-bounds. If men’s feet must be exposed in public (and I am yet to hear a convincing argument why they should be granted such freedom) then lavish them with the attention devoted to other exposed parts.

Bad idea: worn with jeans the foot is given even greater prominence

Otherwise, keep them on the beach and away from restaurants, offices, lecture halls and other confined spaces where it’s a nuisance to have to conscientiously avert our eyes. The rise of exposed, ill-kept feet is symptomatic of a wider trend in society, a selfish streak that promotes your own comfort above others. As with talking loudly into a mobile phone on a bus or train, it demonstrates an obliviousness to the senses of those around you. One an assault on the ears, the other on the eyes, but both borne from the death of shame and the perverse, self-gratifying pleasure taken in doing what you want (perpetrators call it being 'authentic' or 'real' or 'true to yourself') at the expense of others.

I’ve heard it said that on hot summer days flip-flops are more comfortable than shoes. That might be so, and were we in Africa or some other stifling spot I would positively encourage flip-flop wearing, but to wear shoes on a British summer day is not that unbearable. It’s no great hardship. The continued resurgence of the docksider (or ‘deck shoe’) and this summers craze for espadrilles are to be welcomed. The espadrille has its flaws, but it conceals everything the flip-flop so callously exposes.