Mordax et al

There’s a more in depth post about where I’ve been and what’s been going on with me that I’ve been meaning to write. This post is not that. That post has been put off because I just got out of the shower, and lotioned my feet, and fuck it this is my journal, and that’s what I want to write about.

You never pegged me as a foot person, right? 😉
 

My feet are a size 8 1/2 to 9, depending on the shoe. They’re the only part of my body that I’ve consistently felt good about since I was a kid. They’re the only part I’ve consistently paid special attention to; moisturizing and exfoliating them, when I’d have sneered at someone for being a "vain beauty queen" for doing the same to their face.

I’ve worn torn, shapeless, ill fitting t-shirts and pants before, but never shoes that pinched my toes or hurt my feet.

No one is ever going to convince me that my feet are too big, or two small, or shaped funny, or that feet in general are in any way morally, conceptually or physically ugly in any way.

When I was a kid, and by this I mean before I was 17 or so, I thought everyone thought feet were beautiful. My family, so fixated on my weight, height, hair, face, voice, etc never said anything about my feet, or, looking back, feet in general. Feet were a non-issue. And I didn’t talk with other girls very much (gee, really?) and when I did feet were not on the table. (lol)

It took a camping trip, a rare occurrence for me, with a then recently made friend of mine to open my eyes to that fact that not everyone considered feet to be gorgeous.

I don’t remember exactly how it came up. I remember being in the tent with her, and taking off my shoes and socks. Maybe we’d been on a hike and I was rubbing my feet. Maybe she had taken her shoes off and I mentioned that she had nice feet. I don’t know.

But somehow it did come up, and my friend revealed to me that she found feet disgusting. Not just other people’s feet, but her own feet as well, even though they weren’t calloused, smelly, scabby, or nasty in any real definable way. Not only that, but this was apparently a fairly normal opinion, and people who didn’t find them icky generally just didn’t consider them at all. My feet were in the minority.

I was shocked. No matter what fine qualities of feet I mentioned, she wouldn’t be budged. Feet were "gross.

At first I thought maybe it was just here, but later, when I asked a few other people, it turned out to mostly be true. People who thought about feet in a positive way were in the minority. I didn’t know what to think. I had just found out that my favorite feature was to some people right up there with armpit hair. Something we all had, and had to deal with, but certainly not something to be admired.

Now I know that not *everybody* hates, or is neutral about feet, but still, it was a radical change from my earlier belief that feet were as if not more worthy of admiration that a body part like your face, breasts, hands, etc.

What surprises me now looking back at it, is that, insecure teenager that I was, this didn’t give me a complex about my feet. I went right on loving them, and admiring other people’s feet, from then to this very moment. Even in the face of all the other physical complexes that the modern conception of women has neurotically beaten into me, they couldn’t take my feet.

Is there a point to this rant? I don’t know. I just like my feet. I think you should like *your* feet. Or at least think about them. Think about how much they do for you, getting you from place to place, holding up every other part of your body. Think about how they feel when they feel good; when you walk in the sand, or dip them in the pool, or when you rub them. Think about all the different shapes, and curves there are involved in a foot. Feet are complex, hard working, and beautiful. Also, damned hard to draw.

In conclusion: feet. 🙂

-Mordax