I have never considered myself a flip flop girl. Ever. In my former life as a fashion editor, I had been known to straight up rail against the notion of “dressy” flops and the ubiquity of the shoe in general.
So I was not at all prepared to be completely crippled when I blew out a flip flop while on vacation in Northern Michigan recently. It wasn’t until the strap on my beloved, paint-splattered Havaianas snapped that I realized that I may have a flip flop problem, or at least a Havaianas problem.
Sure, I have loved and worn that pair (pictured above, #RIP) for at least three years, and they were just starting to show signs of wear. They were comfy, easy and I didn’t have to work to keep them on my feet. They were a great utility shoe — I wore them in the garden, to take my children to the pool, to run a quick errand, you know the drill. And they were the only pair of flips I had brought with me.
I made it through the rest of vacation just fine (barefoot for the most part), but something just felt a little off. When I got back home, I intended to go out and get another pair of Havaianas, but hadn’t been able to get to the store. So I wore a tired pair of leather platform Michael Kors flips that are so stretched out, they are in desperate need of a trip to shoe jail. It just wasn’t the same. At all.
I have to admit I was a bit too excited when upon returning to my office, I found a spare pair of Havaianas under my desk. They had been previously employed as office shoes for when my tootsies need a break from heels.
So there. Now you know. So do I. I may be a flip flop girl after all*.
*Not really, since I detest seeing people wear “fancy” flip flops as everyday shoes, and in appropriate places such as an office or church. Let’s call me a situational flip flop girl.