I haven’t worn shoes for ten days. Ten blissful days of freedom, feeling the sand between my toes, the grass beneath my feet, the hot asphalt. But it was only while donning shoes to head up to Kings Cross for some dinner this evening that I really came to appreciate how good living sans-footwear really is.
It seems I’m not alone. There are hundreds of online groups devoted to the barefooted lifestyle. These people live their entire lives barefoot- and what’s more, the majority seem to live in places that have real winters. The idea is that when ducking into Dean+Deluca for some New York home cooking, they do it barefoot. When taking the dog out for a pee in foggy Golden Gate Park, they do it barefoot. When buying a coffee at Starbucks, even while at work, they do it barefoot.
So although I might have trouble convincing my employer to let me work barefoot, and the risk of needlestick injury around Kings Cross station may be too great, from now on I consider myself an honorary barefooter and will set my feet free any chance I get.