Flip-Flop & Loathing in LA

If I see one more person in designer clothing looking gorgeous, and then I take a glance down at their -not so- highly decorated feet, in flip-flops, I think I may throw up. Where’s the Pepto Bismal. I loathe flip-flops. I think – according to everyone else but me – I’m supposed to just shrug my shoulders and move on. I can’t mind my own business. This is Los Angeles after all. But, ugly flip-flops. Alas, I cannot. I am in flip-flop hell.


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….now where are my flip flops.

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s summer and flip-flops are going to be everywhere, on everyone, in the most conspicuous of places and I should just get over it. Nope. Just like my onesie obsession. I can’t. There are too many fugly peds out there. I love onesies so much. And I don’t want to look at them while I’m eating at a restaurant. The bare feet flip-flop era. Overgrown toenails are so last year…

When I was growing up, I was taught that flip-flops are for the beach. That’s it. Sand and surf. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Beachwear Only.  End of discussion. However now, in this “let’s not dress up for anything anymore pajama pants in public” revolution; all I see is flip flops. Or ugg boots. Guilty! I do it too! And they are ev-er-y-wherrrrree. Sequined flip flops, disguised as “dressy sandals,” gladiator  sandals, which are really just flip flops with a mess of twine wrapped around your legs, designed to keep a flap of plastic wood strapped to your foot. Whyyyy people? Whyyyy…

That’s rhetorical. I know why. And I don’t like the because, blah blah blah, to the reasoning behind why.

But you wear your stupid Ugg boots everywhere, with everything. And honey, they don’t match a damn thing either. 

Yes. Yes I do. I’m a terrible person.

I love high heels. L-O-V-E. LOVE. And true, neither high heels or flip flops are good for your back. They can inevitably cause you problems later on in life. However, I don’t listen, never have. I also have a love for wedges, pumps, platform, closed toe, open toe, sling back, mule, boot… you name it. Oh please no, not the ugh boot again. Hush, high heeled boots, booties, and thigh high boots. Oh so sexy! Oh, whew. Dodged the wannabe ugh boot bullet. Thank God.

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That being said, when all else fails and I feel like slumming it, I do resort to an ugh boot. Ah crap, there she goes. Even in summer. Yes, I’m that annoying person. And it’s straight up because I’m being lazy.  You bum. Yep! And I know, it’s a hundred degrees outside but irregardless, I wear those hot stinky boots anyway! With fuzzy socks. I think I even did a previous post about my loathing of ugh boots too… so before I get any emails on that. well, I’m a chick and I’ve changed my mind. Crazy wench. Which will likely happen, at minimum, three more times before the end of this rant. Sidenote: Just because I do what I can’t stand doesn’t make it right. I was raised correctly. I think. So there is a bit of self-loathing when I am wearing those boots… during the day… when it’s smoldering outdoors… and I look like I just rolled out of bed… and made ZERO effort toward my day. Zero.

And yeah, it totally shows. My wannabe ugh boots have died a tragic death earlier this week. As shame looms over my family name. Tsk. Tsk. Shame on you! Or is that just a gloomy cloud…. Maybe it’ll rain? Nope. Just smog. Dense, carbon emission-filled smog. I hang my head over that 13 gallon kitchen trash bag. Even my wannabe ugh boots wanted out.

Back to the flip-flop debacle. Not only do flip-flops NOT go with everything; but nine times out of ten, there is a horrific set of ugly feet slid into those things. Cracked heels, anyone? And no one, I mean NO ONE wants to see a toe nail about to come up off a nail bed. Ew. Thanks for the visual.


man-feet-legs-relaxing.jpgI know, I know, I’m in California. I should be more laxidasicle about these things. Um, no. Not going to happen. Just like I should ditch the ughs – which by the way will be a must here soon enough – the flip-flops gotta go. Bye Bye.  I literally have only one pair of flip flops and yes, they have sparkles all over them. By now, you should know that my love of glitter can’t be silenced. To sparkle is life.

Can’t I wear my trailblazing floppies when I’m hiking? Um, no. Do that and next thing you know you’ve been bitten by a snake that saw an open opportunity for a toe it thought it could swallow.

Last thought, stop it. Just stop it. Flip-flop wearing will be judged on a case by case basis and can be considerably granted sparingly. Im not the fashion police. No kidding. And I don’t have a stylist. It shows. But let’s try to give a hoot again about getting dressed for each new day with intention to sparkle and shine.

Sans those damn flip-flops.

*All in jest my friends, all in jest. And yes, I purposely misspelled ugh’s for the sole reason that is the sound I make when I see them, wear them, or am putting them on begrudgingly.


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