The Sole of the Matter

I can't believe I'm about to write this. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd concede to the notion of something I swore against years ago. But, you have to understand, the canvas peep-toe flats I brought with me for this month-long excursion are not the best for walking all day on cobblestone. And listen, the Merrels I brought are ok for traveling, but they don't exactly go with my cute little sun dresses. So, (gulp) I bought a pair of Birkenstocks today.

When I was sixteen, that's what I wanted for my birthday. My parents took me and my two best friends to some town out east on Long Island where there was a specific Birkenstock retail store. It was a big deal, because they were kind of expensive. But man, I loved those things. I wore them for years. Even though the company has a great policy for replacing the soles, I never bothered. After ten years, these sandals were stretched, worn, and beyond repair. But, for nostalgic purposes, I kept them in my closet for years after I stopped wearing them. In the interim, my style had changed. Listen, it's true that my attitude has a bohemian slant, some might go as far as to say "new-age," but at some point, I made the conscious decision that this type of footwear was just  a little too earthy-crunchy for me. I saw myself as hipper-than-that. So, just a few months ago, I finally (and confidently) tossed my fifteen-year-old Birkies in the trash.

So here I am in Cefalu, a beautiful seaside resort town on the northern coast of Sicily. My purple Payless flats are holding up alright. So far, I've walked entire cities in them. They even work ok in lieu of flip-flops at the beach. But sometimes, at the end of a long day, I have to ignore the fact that my feet kind of hurt. And until now, I've been tough about it. Between the flats and the little black heels I brought, I think I've been managing the occasional discomfort quite alright. When I noticed a tear in the flats a few days ago, I realized their days were numbered and that I'd need to come up with an alternative. Otherwise, I'd be stuck wearing bulky brown & yellow hiking shoes (which are comfortable, but kind of dorky.) The other problem is that I also bought some shoes when I was in Brussels. I couldn't help it. Five euro for a pair of black & gold peep-toe heels and these adorable blue ones with laces and a thick heel. Five Euro.  So as it is, I've been schlepping all this extraneous footwear with me around Europe.

I spent the entire day on the beach today. You can rent a chair & an umbrella for five euro and stay as long as you want. They also intermittently play 90's/2000's hip-hop. It's completely worth it. So, I slept and read and went for a swim. And it was lovely, really. Afterward I gathered my things to leave and get a bite to eat. And the beach was so beautiful and the sun so warm that maybe I kind of wished I had a buddy there with me. So I had a panini and some gelato and wrote some postcards and felt a bit of longing for the familiarity of friendship. On my way back to the apartment I'm renting, I stopped at a shoe store and without even hesitating, tried on, and purchased a brand new pair of god-damned Birkenstocks. I couldn't help laughing at myself on the way out.

I won't deny the fact of retail therapy: how the act of purchasing (or consuming) something can  temporarily alleviate an undesired emotion. But, in that act, I also made the decision to help myself out. To save my poor feet and perhaps something more. And man, are they comfortable. Shit. Turns out I am a hippie after all.

Here's a good view of my beloved purple flats at the beach in Porticello.

All my shoes. Totally frivolous.