Mis-led Toes

My Dad is very proud of his feet.  It is not a rare site to see my Dad taking his boots and socks off to dazzle his audience with the perfection of his piggies.  Those around him all agree ..... he has some mighty fine feet.  Maybe that is where my love of my feet and toes began.   As, I am my Dad's foot twin.  Same toes, same instep, same size, same slight irregularity between the right and left arch.  It really is a little eerie how much our feet are the same.  Therefore it only stood to reason that if his feet were perfect so were mine. 

As a child I longed for summer, not because it meant the end of school, but because it meant socks and shoes were no longer required.  As soon as school ended... shoes were banished to the recesses of the closet and my perfect feet were free to experience life.   Running over hot pavement, walking over gravel to "toughen them up" and my fav.... walking over soft dewy grass that tickled the nerve endings that had not been deadened by the piercing sharpness of the rocks.  My feet lived for summer and freedom.  

Dancer's toes must always be incognito

Thinking back I realize that my feet and toes were probably the only part of my body that I unconditionally loved.  But then dance happened and all that changed.  Dance involved wearing incredibly tight shoes while applying extreme pressure to the tips of my toes.  It did not take long for my nails to bruise...blacken... and then eventually pop right off.  I still remember the trauma of my first.... my big toe felt kinda odd.  I bent down and touched the toenail. It wiggled.... toenails aren't meant to wiggle... presto blammo before I knew what was happening the entire toenail was in my hand and my toe was naked.  That's when I traded in my Birk's for closed toe shoes and my toe shame began.  

Since that first loss, my toes have been in a various state of disrepair.  Growing back; partially falling off... yup found something grosser to look at than a fully naked toe... looking at a 1/2 naked toe.  From the years of 1995- 2002 my toes were persona non grata.  The little trolls were banished from sight for fear of scarring children and adults with the sight of my "dancer's feet".  

The second year after I quit dance my life changed.  Slowly my toes and feet returned to "normal".... I am not exaggerating about the slow part it was close to a year and a half for my nails to fully return.    What a delight to have consistent toenails again and dare I say it, I wanted to show them off.  I celebrated by getting my first pedicure with my friend while on a trip in LA.  I walked out with rich red toes adorned by flowers with sparkly centres.  I fell in love with my feet again on that day.  I looked for opportunities to take my socks off, to let my toes frolic and to bask in the glory of my new toe art.  

The first thing to go on that pedicure were the sparkly centres of the flowers.  No worries I still had the flowers!!!! But, little by little the flowers  chipped off until all I was left with was some red splotches and a burning desire for another pedicure.  

There were so many fabulous colours to choose from.  I needed to see my toes bedecked in each of the glorious colours of the rainbow that had been presented to me.  Add to that the fact that you could watch movies, have popcorn and "drinkies" while someone lavished love and tender care on my little piggies..... HEAVEN!  

As soon as the paint started chipping I was on the phone booking another appointment.  I was hooked... 

NO!.... 

I was obsessed.

As with any obsession I ended up needing an intervention.  That intervention came in the form of falling in love with dance again.  It did not take long for my sparkly show off toes to be replaced with socks and all things designed to hide.  I even found sandals that had a toe cap... that is how dedicated I became at ensuring my toes where hidden from the world.  As much as I wanted to go and get a pedicure the "cheap" part of my brain could not fathom paying for a service that would only apply to 3/4's of my foot.  The vain part of my brain could not handle the thought of my feet and toes being judged..... so pedicures went the way of the Dodo.  

It has been about 10 years since I had a pedicure.  Over this time frame my feet have sustained loss, trauma, regrow and loss again.  I have invested a ton of money in ways to disguise my disfigured nails and batter tootsies.  I have "emergency" socks stashed all over the place... in the truck, at work in my dance bag. If ever there is a time where my feet have to be exposed, such as a home visit on a day I forgot to wear socks... I quickly don a pair of the emergency socks saving everyone from the sight of my hideous feet. 

10 long years of foot shame and mourning for the loss of the pedicure world.  

They say every cloud has a silver lining and I guess that is true.  Last year had me sidelined in dance for most of the year due to a hiking injury.  Although sad that I was not able to dance, the time away from pounding the crap out of my toes and feet allowed my nails to flourish.  So when invited for pre-supper pedicures yesterday I gladly excepted.  

"I feel pretty, 
Ohhh so pretty. 
I feel pretty and witty and bright..." 

And so do my toes!

The cool factor is high!

Let's hope for the sake of my bank account that I can keep my pedicure fetish under control this time!!!