These boots are made for walking

Is it just me, or do anyone else's feet consistently look like a congealed mass of flesh and awkward looking bone, melded together in a crazy shape that is somehow fit for walking?

Oh, right.
I forget, that's just me.

In all seriousness, my feet are ridiculously ugly.

It's not that I am insecure about it. Okay, yeah I am. Actually, I'm very insecure about it. In fact, I am so insecure about my feet that when I notice people looking at them, I immediately assume/imagine the horrific judgmental things they are silently uttering about the appearance of my feet, and my obvious lack of care/hygiene in regards to them. I start to blubber and spew words all over myself and the person staring to make justifications for having such horrendous foreign appendages dangling off of my legs; and as a result, just give them even more reasons to judge me.

It's a lose-lose situation.

I used to be in denial about my feet. I used to get pedicures and paint cute little white flowers with swirly leafy designs around it, and diamonds in the center on my big toe-nails. I used to go toe ring shopping, in hopes to find the perfect decoration to distract from my crazy, alien-like toes. I used to buy toe-socks, colorful anklets, and other things of the sort for mere, personal complacency on the topic.

Now, however, I realize how futile this effort is.

My feet are ugly. Period.

Pedicures have become an indulgence, like, perhaps a box of chocolates. Neither are going to make me prettier, but both will surely make me feel reaaaalll good. Cute shoes have become more of a necessity, specifically heels. I may be 5'10" while wearing my stilettos, but hey, I don't have to worry about what my feet look like, so I feel good. I love socks, too. When I am lounging around the house, I make it a point to put clean socks on. (Clean, mind you. Dirty socks are almost as bad as ugly feet--horrendous.) I have discovered that I find my size 8 1/2 feet actually look acceptable while wearing cute, ankle length socks.

The most ironic thing about my abhorrence for my feet, though, is the fact that my favorite shoes are flip-flops. And that, my friends, I refuse to change. I recognize the repulsiveness of my feet. (Clearly.) Yet, apparently, I have no concern for the betterment of society, because, 9 months out of the year, I make no effort to conceal them.

Well, society, this is my message to you regarding your snotty judgmental thoughts about me and my slightly-more-than-unattractive feet:



Put a sock in it-- then MAYBE I will.