Feet have no place in the office. In a perfect world, feet would have no place on the human body either. But until evolution decides to grow pogo sticks out of our ankles, those unappealing appendages are here to stay. At work there is no need to show an excessive amount of foot. I will admit that I broke this rule today by wearing a very summery shoe that just covered my dogs in an array of criss-crossy straps, but I had a good excuse. I was going to get a pedicure during lunch and I didn’t want to ruin it by stuffing my feet back into work shoes. If there is one thing that I will not allow work to ruin it’s my damn pedicure. They’ve already ruined coffee and a large portion of the Internet. Anyway, the shoes I wore were summery but still somewhat dressy. I certainly did not want to return to the office in a pair of flip-flops. Flip-flops in the office are a crime against humanity, and God help us all if a man ever tries to pull that one off. If I ever see a hairy man-foot clad in flip-flops, or worse yet, a decade old pair of Ann & Hope Tevas, anywhere in the vicinity of my desk, he’d better head for the hills. And unfortunately for him, you can’t really run in those things.
Moving on, if you’ve got bunions or calluses, that shit’s not professional. If you’ve got a harelip, fine, not much you can do there. But it’s fair to say that you could easily keep your hammertoe out of sight. And then there's that sound. A friend of mine used to refer to the flip-flop sound as “bologna suction cups.” That sweaty thwack thwack thwack, like a curled up piece of bologna being suctioned off the backseat of a Buick in July. Only not as poetic.
In short, feet are gross. Keep ‘em at least partially covered at work, do what you want with ‘em at home, and I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for pogo sticks.