Noun: Flip-flops. Opinion: Love.
Noun credit: Kathrin.
The days are getting shorter, the nights are getting fresher, and summer is coming to a close in New York. It never seemed to get started this year. We lacked the usual heat wave that swaddles us in a sticky, burning fog and compels us to heave ourselves around in a dream-like state. This usually leads to all kinds of irresponsible behavior for which we don’t hold each other accountable—states of partial nudity, protracted sloth, and sluggish, monosyllabic conversation. We allow ourselves a break from our usual hyperactivity and give in to the heat. It didn’t happen this year; we remained far too lucid. No fun. The biggest meteorological event of the summer was the rain that owned all of June and took over as everyone’s topic of choice in Facebook status updates: “It’s raining again.” “When will the rain stop?” “Eleanor is tired of the rain.”
I’m not ready to give up on summer yet. I recently relented to the occasional piece of outerwear, reluctantly putting on a jacket in the evenings. I’ve busted out the jeans and the frilly accessory scarves that add little to warmth but make you look like you made an effort that morning. I’m going to have to put away the dresses and the tank tops. But the flip-flops stay.
Flip-flops are the easiest things I put on every day. Everything else is a relative struggle—pants require balance to change into, shirts have all those holes that require you to navigate your head into the right one, and don’t get me started on what women have to put on underneath all that. I’m still figuring it all out. But in the summer, flip-flops provide a blissfully simple dénouement. I’ve developed muscle memory in my toes, and they know exactly where to situate themselves for proper attire. One second I’m barefoot, entirely unprepared for the streets of the city, and the next, voila. If only everything were so effortless.
Fall brings on the heels and the covered shoes, all of which are too high-maintenance for my liking. They are also far less comfortable, to boot (badum bum!). I’m holding onto my flip-flops for as long as possible. I’ll just layer up on top. I’ll be in a cable sweater and long johns before I give these puppies up. I will only give in to socks the day hypothermia threatens to claim both my feet, but only because I will want to wear my flip-flops next summer. And it better be hot.
