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A Farewell to Flip-Flops

I said goodbye to some old friends today. Actually, these friends were more like a summer fling—I allowed myself to grow close to them, but deep down I knew that the relationship would inevitably come to an end. These friends were my pair of black-and-white, polka-dotted flip-flops, my go-anywhere, always-at-the-ready steadfast summer companions.

I didn’t want to bid my flip-flops farewell, but we both knew our parting was long overdue. People stare when we are together now, wondering why on earth I haven’t moved on to a more sensible choice. I tried to call it quits several times when the October weather reared its ugly head, only to be lured back to my old habits by the beautiful days of Indian summer.

Every year at this time I struggle to accept the fact that summer is officially over. I cling to the memories of long days, warm nights and freedom from the burden of outerwear—an intoxicating combination for those of us who need a healthy shot of sunshine everyday. Although autumn has its splendors, it is its role as the precursor to winter that haunts me with a melancholy that deepens with each gust of wind and each falling leaf.

So I let my mind wander back to the hope-filled days of spring, when I first spotted the flip-flops among the rows of strappy sandals, backless sneakers and wedgies patiently waiting for a new home. Without so much as a second thought, I bought those flip-flops, eager for the chance to show them off. With their black and white exterior, they were definitely practical, yet they were also whimsical, flashing a hint of pink from the underside of their polka-dotted straps. Whether sportily accessorizing swimsuits and Bermudas or trendily complementing floral skirts, my flip-flops answered the call of footwear duty, providing a casual but fun accompaniment to whatever outfit my heart desired.

I suspected at times that my flip-flops may have been imposters, shamelessly posing as their blue-blooded designer cousins, but I didn’t care, for they took me everywhere without complaint! Despite being cast aside carelessly at the end of the day, I could always find them, disheveled but expectant, on the back porch, ready to be slipped on for an early-morning stroll through the garden, a harried race to the office or a late-afternoon visit to the pool. We traveled together over hot sand at the dunes, in and out of cool north-side boutiques, down seemingly endless aisles at the grocery store and across dewy lawns at backyard barbecues. My flip-flops saw their share of rain, mud, stuck gum and smashed insects, but were they ruined by these encounters? No, they shrugged off the harsh spray of the garden hose, dried off under the baking sun, and kept on going.

Any busy mom can appreciate a pair of shoes that not only looks good, but requires no tying, no bending and no coordinating hosiery. My flip-flops provided a jaunty melody when I walked and kept my feet cool and blister-free. They were good to me. So it was with a mixture of sadness and guilt that I placed them in the back of my closet with the promise that I would return one day soon for them, knowing full well that come next spring, despite my good intentions, my fickle nature would be captivated by a brand-new, springy pair of flip-flops calling out my name.

Until that time, you may think that I have resigned myself to months of layers, laces and inconvenience in pursuit of winter comfort and fashion. But I have some other old friends that have been waiting in the wings, ones that are always there for me in my time of need. Like their summer counterparts, they can be worn with just about anything, they’re easy to get on and off, and they protect my feet in the least restrictive manner possible. While they are not young and fresh like my flip-flops, they actually seem to get better with age, their subtle homeliness adding to their appeal. I’ll bet you know them, for they are as indispensable to busy feet in the winter as flip-flops are in the summer, and they have a name only a mother, or friend, could love: UGG.