Living in New York prompts certain involuntary changes in one’s character; you walk faster, you ignore anyone not in your direct line of sight; you develop a glare nastier than mace to ward off the sleazebags who Hey Baby you on your way home. Also, you don’t leave the house without hand sanitizer. Ever.
While the liquid security blanket that is Purell calms me during the cold weather months, I become a certifiable germaphobe once the urban heat hits. It’s as though the dust, grime, pests and rotting garbage emerge from hibernation, rejoice, and say “HA! Think it’s nice out today? Take a look around and smell this.”
If any of ye suburban folk have doubts as to this city’s germy-ness, don some flip-flops the next time you’re in town on a hot day. Take the subway to your destination; take the subway back; take a look at the blackened bottoms of your feet. You might ask yourself, Did I step in something? Did the sole of my flop rub off on my skin? Did I contract a toxic skin disease that’s turning my body the color of ash from the bottom up? No, no, and maybe. What you see is the summer revenge of the filth, tattooed in bacteria-riddled goo on your body. Two subway rides, and you’re done for.
The pot-smoking surfer dude inventor of slip-on sandals probs thought, Nature, maaan. I want to wear shoes that put as little space as possible between me and the Earth. If that earth’s a sandy beach, fine, Namaste. If it’s a festering germ-filled concrete jungle, I don’t THINK so.
Do you know WHY, if you rub garlic on your feet, you can taste it twenty minutes later? Because we absorb everything that’s out there through our skin, not excluding microscopic shit on subway platforms. Flip-flops in this city aren’t a comfortable shoe style; they’re a sanitation code violation.
Oh, and this isn’t about me hating nature. I used to “summer” in Colorado, beotches; I have hiked; I have rock-climbed; I have fly-fished (sort of); I have liked it. I fucking love nature. Just not in New York, and not on my bare feet.
The sandals pictured won’t keep your soles entirely clean of NYC filth – no sandal can. For frequent users of public transportation, they will, however, reduce the speed with which said filth accumulates. How? By utilizing a feature absent from the mule and every evil flip-flop spawn since: a back that actually secures the sandal to your heel. Effing genius.
The Deets (clockwise, from top left): DV by Dolce Vita Dolly Suede Thong , $69.95; Wanted Ankle Back Flip Flop, $39.99; Blowfish Link Gladiator Sandal, $44.95; Teva Leather and Fabric Sandal, $69.95.
*For best results, swab feet with Germ-X Antibacterial Soft Wipes Singles after use. You’re welcome. 
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