Slipperly Wear

weird little slippers with animal faces on the top.

They come out of the box with a luxury that is close to decadent. Except they are slippers. Not quite sexy.

They’re an orangey, brown suede with a fluffy creamy interior. The interior might have been lambswool or a very good approximation of clouds of wool. The bottoms were cork or vibram or corky-plastic. You could walk outside in the rain and not ruin them. When you pulled them out of the box, you’d immediately pull off your socks and sink your bare foot in and a sigh would escape your lips and your eyes would roll a little bit toward the back of your head. Your feet would be saying, in a little foot voice, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

You keep them clean for as long as you can, but then there is the morning when you spill coffee on your foot that is covered in slipper. And the decay begins. The footbed gets more and more matted down. The suede gets shiny in spots, and there are spots. After a while, they are just a duller, darker shade of brown. The vibrancy of the orange fades away.

They’ve been outside in wet snow, gone in the car with you to 7-11 and walked the dog even past the corner where you thought you’d turn around. Your toe is almost poking through the hide and the inside of the shoe is totally molded to your foot. Nobody else could comfortably wear them.

But they are comfortable to you. Very.  You keep them by the door so you can take off your shoes or your boots and slip into something more comfortable without taking an extra step. You anticipate the pleasure of your foot hitting the warm innards of the moccasin. Its like a big welcoming hug.

To an outside eye, they just look like dirty old slippers. But as you put them on after a long day at work, a little breath escapes from your lips and your eyes roll to the ceiling and and maybe even beyond. Actually, they’ve achieved their maximum level of decadence.

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