“Ooh, you’ll get to wear Danskos all the time,” said my friend Hillari when I told her I was going to culinary school. Hillari is an unabashed champion of the ultra-comfy clogs, which also happen to be favored footwear by those who spend long hours on their feet–like chefs and nurses.
I demurred, saying the school-issued uniform included a pair of food-service, industry-grade, black lace-up shoes. Weighty, steel-toed, nonskid clodhoppers designed strictly for function. Useful features, certainly, especially if you happen to drop a hot, heavy pan on your foot, or when you’re wading through the puddles that inevitably form under the dish sink.
Heavy, steel-toe, nonskid shoes are a blessing if you happen to drop a hot, heavy pan on your foot, or when you’re wading through the puddles that inevitably form under the dish sink.
But by the end of the first week, the things were threatening to hobble me, as my Achilles tendons tightened. Who knew I was such a delicate petal? If I was going to get around the kitchen any faster than a snail’s pace, I needed a solution, and fast. On Sunday–Easter Sunday–I decided to pick up a pair of foot-friendly, but safe, Danskos. So we set out for Nordstrom, that Valhalla of footwear, at the Westside Pavilion. It was closed for Easter. Huh? I got used to religiously observed religious holidays while living in Alabama. But in the kosher canyon of LA’s Westside? Really? My mate consulted Google and found the shoes were carried at A16, up the road. Also closed for the holiday. This was beginning to feel like a conspiracy personally visited upon me by Jesus (my friend, Aimee, who prays for my immortal heathen soul would heartily approve). We decided to head continue heading west, to the REI store in Santa Monica.
My heathen prayers were answered! They had the color, the size, the model I needed. The clodhoppers have been set aside in favor of my cuter, much more comfortable, and therefore more functional clogs. My Achilles tendons have recovered. My feet are happy.
I’m a convert.