From The Ankles Up, I'm All Business.......

But from the ankles down, I'm all party.....

More specifically, I'm a hippy-dippy, tie-dyed Bob Marley party. You should see my magnificent toe hair dreadlocks.
When wearing these shoes, my feet relentlessly tap out the Morse Code version of "One World, One Love" all day long as though independent from the rest of my body.
"Let's get together and feel alriiigghhhttt....."
That's the real reason why Asians bind their feet. It's to shut them up.
I finally was forced to adopt a zero tolerance stance prohibiting them from burning any kind of "incense" in the sanctity of my footwear. I understand that my feet may consider my Good Time shoes as their special private place where they can do whatever they feel like, but you know, sometimes I do need to get through security and ultra-sniffy dogs to get places.
Man, I'm such an unmellow fascist pouring holy water on their little smoke-filled lovefest.
Reluctantly, I did compromise and purchase some lovely socks for my feet made from the most organic hemp crops. They feel positively toasted in them.
Anyway, I think I've long established my predilection for the most bizarro WTF?-ery of novelty socks, but I've never before shared my bizarro WTF?-ery shoe fetish.
I picked up these little homage to the Grateful Dead beauties at a new thrift store that caters to teens called Plato's Closet. I visually scoured the shoes for any traces of foot funk left over from the previous inhabitants. I also did some deep and profound sole searching. I'm happy to report that these shoes were undoubtedly never worn and yet still bore an amazing price tag of only ten bucks.
I am a little disturbed to think about Plato, one of the greatest philosophers in history, as a cross-dresser, but at least I can take comfort in the fact that the sparkly tube dress and high heels in his closet were cheap. I do like a frugal man!
I only have a few pairs of weird shoes. Certainly not enough to open up my own FooFoo Feet Museum in the shoe closet just yet.
See, I have certain stringent criteria regarding price, function, and comfortability factors. I'm not easy. Not just any old random oddball shoe can apply for employment at Smiling Infidel Central.
Here's some of the lucky few who made it past the rigorous selection process:

If Papi and I ever get divorced, I'm going to date both Dr. Scholls and Mr. Vans so I can be sure that my poor, defenseless little feet will never be stinky or cold again.......