I wear sandals. I like to wear sandals, summer and winter. I used to have cold feet–back in my twenties, thirties, and forties. Then menopause hit, and my feet haven’t been cold since.
When we were in Seattle this past winter, twice I was stopped by strangers on the street who felt compelled to ask me, “Aren’t your feet cold?”
Well, no, they’re not. That’s the short answer, but I’ve puzzled about why they’re asking the question in the first place. Are they concerned, for instance, that my wearing sandals in the winter is an indication of some kind of mental instability or impairment? Maybe they’re planning on directing me to the nearest mental health facility for an evaluation. Maybe they think I’m hoping someone will give me a gift certificate to Zappos. Or perhaps they’re afraid that I spend my spare time standing on street corners panhandling with a cardboard sign that says, “Will work for shoes!”
Most likely, however, they’re simply making a fashion statement and voicing their head-shaking disapproval of my choice of foot wear.
In an earlier posting, I wrote about how, in South Dakota, my great grandmother, Grandma Madsen had a penchant for walking back and forth to her outhouse barefoot in the snow. Like me, Grandma Madsen was six feet tall, and I still believe that she walked barefoot in the snow to keep from wrecking her shoes. I’m sure ladies size twelve shoes were very hard to come by back then. DNA being what it is, I also suspect that, at a certain age, Grandma Madsen’s feet stopped being cold, the same way mine did. So may be I should tell my questioners that I’m just channeling my great grandmother.
But still, what compels them to ask?
At a certain point in one’s life, some people–yours truly included–come to the inevitable conclusion that wearing tank tops or sleeveless blouses is no longer in their best interests. Unfortunately there are other people who never arrive at that conclusion even though they should. That doesn’t give me the right to go up to one of them in public and say, “Aren’t your arms too floppy for that tank top?” That would be a surefire invitation to lose a front tooth or two, because some of those tank top ladies appear to be pretty tough cookies.
When people asked my mother, a good Congregationalist, why she had seven children, she invariably launched off in a detailed explanation of which failed birth control device each of us was. I doubt any of her victims were dumb enough to ask someone else that question.
Someone wrote to me a few years ago and asked me where a character named Fat Crack got his name. I wrote back and told him to think of the back side of any plumber he had ever seen. My answer evidently offended him because he responded with a three word reply: TOO MUCH INFORMATION! Excuse me, where do people think nick names come from? And, furthermore, if you don’t want a straight answer, then don’t ASK!
At this very moment, I have a very well dressed plumber outside installing a sand filter on the water pipe from our well. He happens to be a plumber who wears a freshly laundered uniform with a tucked in shirt and a belt fastened neatly around his waist. But even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t think of mentioning to him or to any other plumber or even to the occasional teenager, “Aren’t your low-riders riding a little too low?”
In the late seventies while living in Bisbee and working in the insurance business, I slipped on some gravel, slid under a parked car, and broke my ankle. (Come to think of it, one of the characters in the upcoming Remains of Innocence has the same kind of incident that occurs on the same street. Authors are supposed to write what they know, right?)
The seventies may be only dim memory for a lot of us, but those were the days when ladies’ business attire included heels, panty hose, blazers, skirts, and blouses. Once I was in a cast, I was unable to handle the thought of going to work wearing a suit with a bare knee sticking out above the plaster, so I took action. I found a pair of previously damaged pantyhose and cut the leg off a few inches above the knee. (There were always a few pairs of panty hose with runners in them hanging around in my stocking drawer.) First I put on the pantyhose and then stuffed the cut off part of the stocking into the top of my cast. Next, after whacking the foot piece down to a few inches, I stuffed the toe part over my toes and into the bottom of my cast. Voila–there I was properly dressed in stockings and a cast!
It takes about six weeks for a broken ankle to heal. In that time, any number of people–the same kind of people as my recent sandal inquisitors–asked me how did I get those pantyhose on? Depending on my mood at the time, I told them either, “I put them on over my head,” or “I was wearing them at the time I broke my ankle.” Remembering the looks of consternation on their faces still makes me smile, all these years later.
So I’m going to take a lesson from my own darned self–from that pantyhose wearing lady from way back when, the one who may have had cold feet but who also had a sense of humor. I’m not going to growl at the fashion police and say, “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Instead, I’m going to look down at my feet in apparent astonishment and say, “I’m wearing sandals? Really? I never noticed!”
I have a son and a pair of granddaughters who, like me, are more than six feet. I’m going to suggest they give the same kind of treatment to the people who insist on asking how tall they are: “I’m tall? Really? I never noticed.”
Let the questioners put THAT in their pipes and smoke it.
The final thing I have to say about those questions–they are R-U-D-E. Not unlike saying to a pregnant woman who is well aware of her appearance, “You’re so big. Are you expecting twins?”
The real answer, to a question like that is this: “It’s none of your business.” Because it isn’t.
So endeth the rant for the day!
I wear fitflops year around. If it gets too cold I wear socks with toes in them. Why does it drive them crazy? When I was young I wore shorts year round. I also wonder who made them the clothing police. ha ha ha, I just laugh at them.
Keep up the good work.
Maryann Rader
Wow! Somebody needed to get some things off their chest!! haha I’m sorry to say, but I AM one of those folks who should not wear sleeveless shirts/dresses. I am jiggly and my daughters just LOVE to point that out. But you know what? I do not care what other people think. I dress to please myself, not others. And just like your sandals, please yourself, and who cares what other people think? People spend too much of their lives scrutinizing other people, when they should just focus on their own. I am my worst enemy. I am critical of myself. But, I will not let society dictate what I should or should not wear. I hope you have a wonderful day and ignore those who are ignorworthy!
I wear flip flops all year round so I don’t think your crazy. I grew up in the country on a farm do bare foot is the way I grew up not that I didn’t have shoes because I did I just chose to go without them. Well when I got married and was having my first baby everyone laughed at me because here I was young married pregnant and bare footed…lol I still wear my flip flops in the winter but only in the house now, I don’t know what happened to me this year because my heater turned off and my freezer on because I can’t handle this cold we are having in Georgia this year. But I totally get where your coming from because I used to get the same questions.
Meant so bare foot not do….and last name is Joyner, had texting on iPhone!
Thank you for voicing what I have been feeling for years. I too think it is pure rudeness to comment on other people’s looks, clothing, etc. except to say something nice. Is it our Congregational conscience that tells us when we hear such comments that the speaker does not live by “do unto others…..”
Love your rant! My daughter wears tank tops most of the time, because she’s a warm one. Drove my hubby nuts for a while. People feel privileged to ask the darndest things. We try to teach the kids to have snappy answers. If people are going to be rude you might as well have fun with them!
Many years ago, I asked a Franciscan friar how he handled wearing sandals in winter? This was in Iowa. He looked at me like I was crazy and said “I wear socks.”
I felt foolish afterwards, but as a convert to Catholicism I had all sorts of questions.
I had grown up thinking nuns didn’t have legs under their habits! 🙂
Love it. People will always have something to say and today is much more “forward” than yesteryear. When I was young and put together, other women would tweak my collar or ask about my shoes. 11AAAA wasn’t the easiest to buy and I thought myself lucky to have a couple of pair of work heels and one dressy pair. That said, after I retired, I wore very comfortable shoes, often sandals. No longer 5’11, I don’t hear the tall remarks so much. From a family where 10 women are over 5’9, we hear a few comments when we are together I have noticed that my adult grandchildren seem to be wearing shoes again after years of flip flops.
Oops. Someone just pointed out that I wrote the book title wrong. The upcoming Joanna book is Remains of Innocence!
🙂 Nice rant! Anyone who wore pantyhose in Arizona deserves a medal!
When I see people dressed in “different” attire, I just smile and say to myself “a totally free person!”
I loved your Rant. I hate the thing about not wearing this or that during certain times of the year. If your comfortable wear it. I like turtlenecks year round. People think I’m strange but I can’t stand cold air blowing on my neck and shoulders; must be old age and arthritis.
I have had cold feet all my life. Some specially cold nights I even wear socks to bed. You can imagine when I was a cop and on foot patrol how I felt in the winter, I even thought of quitting until I was promoted to Communications Sergeant. By the way the cold feet did not effect my cop duties. Ha. Also BTW, been going to send you a picture of my wife Sharon that I think looks just like you. And thank you for the great entertainment you have given us with your great books. Cheers
I have had cold feet all my life. When I first became a cop on foot patrol I sometimes thought of quitting until I was promoted to Communications Sergeant. BTW been meaning to send you photo of my wife as I think she looks just like you. We wish to thank you for the great books you have entertained us with also. Cheers 🙂
I just figure those people have cold feet, and are surprised that anyone would wear sandals when THEY have cold feet. People always ask me if I shouldn’t be wearing a hat, etc. and I figure they’re cold, like my Mom, who when she is cold, goes around putting blankets on everyone. None of us like it much and she’s gotten used to not doing that to the rest of the family…. but still tries every once in a while.
You have made my day; I was laughing hysterically. But I am guilty. I gasped when I saw a man in Menards in shorts and the temp was 10 degrees. When he looked quizically at me, I just said I was surprised his legs were not cold. He said “oh, I thought I was bleeding or something.” We both laughed, but I suppose he was thinking how rude I was also. P.S. My feet are colder than before menopause!
You are by far my favorite blogger ever…next to me, myself and I of course. I love sandals too, much prefer them over shoes. My issue with my later years is I’m too warm and when the weather here in Colorado comes out of the teens, I live in tank tops…yes, you heard me right…tank tops. I know I shouldn’t, I have mirrors in my house that are not nice to me…YIKES…what happened to my arms????? The reality is, I like to be comfortable and have decided now that I am in my sixties (when the ‘blank’ did that happen), comfort comes first. So, because you are on my “bucket list” to meet – you being my favorite author and all – I promise not to ask you about your shoes, that is if this old brain of mine can keep this info locked away for the right time. Thanks for a great early morning chuckle as I read your blog. Keep those happy feet cool.
OMG, was that you? I was going to buy you a pair of socks! I can see the headlines now, Good Samaritan Buys Socks For Down And Out Street Walking Author With Only Sandals To Wear In The middle Of Winter.
I wear flip flops because I like to freely wiggle my toes. I think better and am noticeably more creative when I do. Who cares what others think? I’m with you on this one Ms. Jance. However, I confess to occasionally wearing a sleeveless top and when I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window I am always shocked to see my grandmothers arms connected to my body. I wonder when in the heck that happened. Thanks a lot Grandma!
I am over 6 feet tall. Whenever I am asked if I played basketball (I didn’t and don’t) I respond with a smile and as gently as I can ask if they play miniature golf. It always gets the point across!
I loved your rant; it reminded me of all the folks who used to repeatedly ask me, Aren’t you looking for a husband, dear? (I was 37 before I got married.). Rude and unkind, as any single woman really wanting marriage but so far being unable to find a compatible mate can attest. So I came up with this reply: “No, I’m not looking for a husband; I don’t want to break up someone else’s marriage. I’m looking for a bachelor!!!!!” They never asked again.
Cold IL would not permit sandals. I have never been able to wear shoes with any comfort. Just before I retired, I found Cole Hahn. . .now retired, can’t do it. So, it’s barefoot (FL) inside and out of house. Sandals when I have to wear shoes, but that’s because my feet grew and I didn’t know it. Taking tennis shoes on vacation and walking miles, my toes were so cramped, when I went to buy ‘walkers’ at a size and a half larger, my big toe nail was black (it grew out instead of immediately falling off). I walk daily 2-3 miles, so I love the walkers, but it’s sandals and barefoot otherwise. Experience: I always believe there is a story behind why someone is doing something so I never think anything about it (whatever “it” happens to be). Blessings, Janet
And you would be amazed what people feel entitled to say about and directly to young children who are obviously adopted. Twenty plus years ago when we were a white lesbian couple with two little African-American boys, total strangers would say incredible things. My favorite question was, “Are they really brothers?” This upset the kids a lot. They certainly thought they were really brothers. The appropriate answer was, “Yes they are.” When the kids were out of earshot I used to say, “No, they’re really sisters!”