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Archive for December 7th, 2010

Baby, Your Feet’s Too Big.

Posted by Dirck on 7 December, 2010

As part of my ongoing effort to dress something like decently, I have not neglected my shoes (although this has required me to neglect my feet somewhat).  With the turning of the season, and we will not be foolishly bound by the astronomical declarations that Winter is yet a fortnight away, I’ve had to adopt measures to make sure this aspect of my costume remains in good shape.  I have therefore bought galoshes.

Galoshes are neither a sound made by Goofy in times of ultimate distress nor a French cigarette.  They’re an overshoe, although an examination of the Wikipedia entry on them indicates a French etymology, so perhaps the cigarettes of a similar name are meant to smell like burning rubberized footwear.  I have had something in this like previously, in the shape of toe-rubbers (stop that giggling) which in an inadequate one-size-fits-poorly way disappointed me throughout last winter.  These galoshes, reaching half-way up the calf, are so far doing a rather better job in the snow and may well appear in the rain, if the forces that decide these things allows for rain again– as a Canadian staring into the long bit of Winter, I make no assumptions.

I should in the last sentence probably say “half-way up my shin”, because this is the most persistent point of displeasure with the galoshes.  They rub on the sensitive fore part of the leg, lightly enough that it is a mere nuisance and would likely make no impression at all on a Muay Thai practitioner, but always, persistently, there.  They are very like wearing what many parts of the anglophone world call Wellies, but with another shoe inside so each step lands twice to some degree.  I should not like to be made to run in them, and even walking, one wonders if the name isn’t onomatopoeic.

The main issue I have with them comes from the interface with my van.  I’ll leave it to the reader to search for the various non-complimentary things I’ve said about the current conveyance, and the fact that it comes into conflict with my footwear should come as no surprise.  I think, in honesty, the fault lies in the strange shape of the galoshes.  For a start, the lack of articulation means getting foot from gas to brake is a little tricky– I’ve taken to leaving the boot halfway undone.  Once the brake pedal is achieved, though, the fun is just beginning, since there’s enough slop and overhang for the galosh to catch on the gas pedal as it drives down the brake.  This is the sort of thing that the US Government decided was responsible for Audis running mad in the 1980s.  It takes but a moment to correct, but in that moment one finds the car trying to overwhelm the brakes by running up the revs, a very disconcerting thing on an icy street.  I can blame the van in as much as it has an automatic transmission– in a standard, it would just be extra noise.

The up side to the galoshes is that my shoes take much less of a beating in the course of a day.  I can train myself around the pedal problem.  That just leaves the fact that they are one of the ugliest items of footwear in the world, and I’m not going to start crying out “There’s nicer shoes underneath!” as I walk through a store.  Oh, well.  One step at a time will solve most problems.

Today’s pen:  Sheaffer Balance Craftsman
Today’s ink:  Diamine Majestic Blue

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