Oofos shoes challenge everything I thought I believed about comfort. Like most travelers who love spending hours traipsing around new cities—I have many times chosen to climb the steep, cobblestoned streets of Bairro Alto in Lisbon instead of taking a taxi, and consider walking the entire length of Central Park an ideal afternoon activity—I have to think about what’s practical, and not going to hurt my feet 10 minutes into a 4-hour jaunt. But you won’t see me Googling “comfortable walking shoes” and clicking the first option that appears. I still want to look good during all this exploring, you see. (What else am I doing in a fabulous city besides trying to feel entirely fabulous?)
I’ve denied Crocs as not-for-me (sue me!), and never consider my running shoes for everyday wear—even though I’d love to call them dual-purpose given the space they take up in my carry-on. So when, not too long ago, a shoe store associate placed a pair of Oofos slides in my hands, you can imagine my horror. They’re hideous.
But this happened to be at a time in my life when I was seriously taking up running, even training for the New York City Marathon, and the shoes came with such praise that I swear, tiny little cherubs dropped from the Fleet Feet store ceiling and began to sing. It’d be like walking on clouds, the shop guy said. They would help aid in recovery after hours of putting my muscles to work. My feet would thank me. I rolled my eyes, tried them on, and silently moved toward the cash register where I paid $60, not including tax, to take them home. I made eye contact with no one.
I have since not only worn them religiously, but convinced others to buy these hideous and heavenly shoes (seriously, two friends purchased within a week after trying mine on). I don’t dare wear them in public, though I wish I had the confidence to do so. It is enough to return from a long day on my feet—whether that’s running, or simply hitting the pavement in the city—and wear them from room to room in my apartment, my feet lifted up like little Greek gods carried by an army of servants. These slides are my ambrosia, and with them my feet are immortal.
I hear there are people who wear these out on the street. God bless them. I imagine, trodding down a pathway to a beach, going through airport security (with socks on, of course), or even popping out of an Airbnb for a coffee run, the experience would be just a little bit easier with them on. Maybe I just need everyone to hold hands with me and agree that yes, we can wear these outside. Maybe I need a promise that nobody will scoff at me in public. Or maybe I just need someone with genuine taste, far better and more innovative than mine, to style these in a way that makes me understand their fashion potential—because any sandals this comfortable have to be worth getting creative for.
Until then, I hope I can micro-influence others to, like me, live in the joy and shame of letting your feet luxuriate in them at home.
