Love...hate

I recently returned from a grand adventure in Europe with my roommate Amber. We had a fantastic time and ate a lot of pizza. Most importantly I think it lead to an important turning point in my life. Before embarking on the trip Amber and I, against my better judgment, purchased a pair of Chacos. I hate Chacos. I made a pact early in college, after being introduced to them in Happy Valley, that I would never, never own a pair. And if I ever were to break down Erin was assigned to kill me. Clearly Erin has failed in her duties as a friend. Nevertheless, the decision to make the purchase turned out to be a good idea.

After laying aside my preconceived notions and bias, I carefully selected what I deemed to be the least atrocious pair, for a reasonable price. I determined I would not spend more on gross sandals than I would on shoes I actually like and was quite successful.

Now, though I still find the shoe ugly, and not something to be combined with socks or worn to a formal affair-yes people think this ok- I have been converted. The shoe was wonderful for the following reasons:
They were light, as we were backpacking this was a necessity. They were cool in the warm weather. They were easily cleaned and could be worn in water. As one reviewer stated, "They can be worn with a skirt and look classy." I believed this and they therefore became my church shoe. It was a lie, I knew. But it worked. They are great for hiking. And the greatest feature, one I had not even planned on, was that they offered safety and protection. As I looked at Amber and myself sporting our Chacos each day I thought, "Who on earth would want to kidnapp us? We look like dopey hobos." So to the fashionista, be advised, they are not a good look if you're trying to attract the fellas. So thank you versitile shoe for saving my life and keeping us from being "Taken."

Sidenote. Now that I am home I do not plan to wear them again, unless I am actively forging a river. Or repelling a man.