Though I am, like many New Yorkers, somewhat self-involved, I am also civic-minded and therefore feel compelled to take the time from the demanding shooting schedule of my new reality show* to issue an urgent warning about an emerging public emergency: flip flop people are taking over New York. If they are not stopped in mid-flap our fair city may never return to sensible footwear.
The trend toward comfort and casual dress crossed a distinct line a few years back when Manhattanites started wearing flip flops from the first hint of spring right through Autumn’s first frost. Each year the scourge seems to spread faster than a bad case of athlete’s foot, driven by tourism, an ever expanding selection of flip flop options and, of course, the casual wear race to the bottom.
Though it seems counter-intuitive, the flip flop people are relentless n their quest for a chilled-out feeling. Now maybe it’s a generation gap and I’m just a bit old fashioned, but I was raised to believe that we should make every effort to DISTANCE OUR BARE FEET FROM THE FILTHY STREETS. Am I a stick in the mud if I don’t want my toes to graze pools of dog urine to my left, a half eaten hot dog dropped by a youngster to my right or that festering pool of vomit recently deposited by an adolescent reveler who couldn’t hold his liquor? Kids, there is an important health matter afoot and it’s your feet!
And what about decorum and good taste? Apparently as old-fashioned as other uncomfortable things like girdles and corsets. Perhaps flip flops are appropriate at a luau, lounging poolside, after a pedicure or while doing your laundry, but in a sales meeting? A plated dinner party? A gallery opening? And come on guys — on a first date??? REALLY???
I secretly enjoy watching the flip flop people pay the price for their “devil may care” ways. Have you ever seen a flip flop person at the end of the day when there toes look like a can of Vienna sausages sticking out of an exhaust pipe? It is a beautiful thing to behold. I also like when the flip flop people get stuck in a rain storm and start squishing around and into a puddle of water dotted with human feces! Is it terrible that I find those moments somewhat gratifying? Sue me. Tell me I’m prim and old fashioned, but whatever you do, keep those dirty digits away from me!
One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to be caught with the grime of New York streets between my little piggies. How will I do it? With my newly acquired cobalt blue vintage platforms from the 1970s!