Tossing those jelly shoes brought back a lot of memories. My fingers were cut after getting caught between two sharp strands of plastic. Out the way they came in with a lot of blood and the lattice scars reminding me I could never be a foot model. That and unfortunate toe hair.
I think if the jelly shoe had been made with actual jelly they would have given our feet more support.
My toes were the onions and the jellies were that crazy mandolin chopping tool, introduced around the same time as the torturous shoes, my mother-in-law uses to slice onions. She never cuts herself but my fingers start to bleed just watching her.
There was always a circulation issue with the jellies. Was the onset of these problems a result of the jellies or did the jellies just make obvious a puffy, boiled beet look? A medical emergency averted with a quick toe scan. I’ve never seen a shoe since then give such a clear visual of the word “throbbing” in every colour of the rainbow.
I remember at times thinking my baby toe might actually be sliced out of the shoe entirely by one of the many sharp, tight-fitting plastic bands flimsily binding them together. It would be the modern day equivalent of wrapping two packages of silly bands in an intricate, woven pattern around the toes as tightly as possible and sporting them as footwear. Today of course you’d have the added bonus of people stopping to examine your toes closely to see if you had the princess tiara or the Christmas tree in place of a proper heel.
Marketers realized there was money to be made in the plastic, crocheted footwear industry so they introduced the jelly-shoe for the hair–the banana clip. Equally painful, the same slotted design with no business being worn as an accessory. It made really long hair look like a straggly wig and made hair not quite long enough to be pulled up show off parts of a bleeding skull rendering anyone who sat in row B nauseous.
Sunday Bloody Sunday. The 80’s was an era obsessed with songs, kitchen utesnsils and clothing that made us bleed.
Growing up, my neighbour was fashionable, my mother was practical.
My friend always knew what was trendy, where to shop and didn’t care how much something cost. My Mom had no knowledge of what was trendy, knew where not to shop and cared a great deal about how much something cost.
I remember penny loafers. A relief from jelly shoes in that there was coverage of the entire foot. My neighbour bought Bass loafers and always had a shiny penny in place. I couldn’t buy the same colour (oxblood) because the name made my stomach turn so I bought some that were dyed navy blue. I often forgot to add the penny (and socks for that matter), feet still swollen from the jellies, the smarting pain a constant reminder I may never wear socks with shoes again.
Just when I thought foot fashion couldn’t get any weirder, I picked up my neighbour and she was happily hopping into every puddle she could find on her way to school in you guessed it–the duck boot. If possible, we had taken an even further quack back when it came to foot fashion. Still rubber? Check! But unlike the jelly, which offered zero support and caused a lot of people to talk about how their blistered (sometimes hairy) feet may not make it to walk another day, we’ll make these look like industrial rain boots lobster fishermen might use while out at sea for days on end. A far cry from the fall-fair jellies we were luckily able to sell to the carnies, these were stomping-on-the-deck shoes. If you were late getting to the shoe store, you could save your reputation by just wearing your Dad’s “rubbers” which meant something entirely different in the 80’s than it does today.
Three ugly shoes taught us so much about fashion, comfort and things to do with rubber.
Welcome to 2011. Your friend, UGG.
