My gal pals and I were strolling by the beauty section of a department store when my eagle-eyed friend V stops dead in her tracks and points in wordless astonishment to one of the items proudly displayed on a shelf. We all stop to look. Together, we let out a collective gasp. The product was FOOT BLUSH.
Come on. Let’s get serious. Foot Blush? Is it not enough that we women are doomed to spend countless hours in front of the mirror making up our faces to look perfect? Are we now expected to make up our feet as well?
Clearly, the bewildering male obsession with the fine form of the female foot has reached phenomenal heights as the cosmetics industry has deemed it worth capitalizing on. And apparently, pink shy feet that blush are the ideal to be coveted.
Unfortunately, my husband is not immune to this wicked fixation. I vividly recall his first visit to my house many moons ago. When I met him at the door naively clad in my trusted sneakers, one of the first things he said was: “Why not change to slippers so you’ll feel more comfortable?” I thought nothing of this seemingly nonchalant request and innocently slid into a pair of simple rubber thongs. Upon giving my feet a slightly subtle once-over, he looked positively smitten. And at that definitive moment, I knew. If I wanted to keep my guy happy, I had to be willing to go all-out and bare my sole without restraint.
Throwing all caution the wind, I embarked on countless shopping sprees and amassed footwear which blatantly revealed some serious toe cleavage. (Sadly, all my conservative shoes had to go via a major garage sale.) I became a foot spa habitué as I unrelentingly got scrubbed, soaked and slathered to ensure that I remained impeccably smooth, non-callous and corn-free. I wore pedicures in bright, eye-catching colors. I even dared flaunting a toe ring. Too late, I realized that I had turned into a foot slut. Consequently, my man became besotted, blown away, literally head-over-heels in love with me.
As I got to know more males, I learned my husband was more the rule than the exception. Majority of men truly are hopeless foot fiends. When they look a woman over from head to toe, they really do…with their eyes lingering a little bit longer on the toe part rather than the head part. And whereas they used to keep their bizarre fixation secret, they are now more blatant about it and do not hesitate to exchange foot notes in public:
“Did you notice how fabulously smooth my girlfriend’s feet are?”
“Her feet are as soft as a baby’s, I could drown in them.”
“Man, how I want to get a taste of those Popsicle toes!”
“Those red nails are driving me insane.”
“That lady has some nerve…she should just wear closed shoes.”
Sorry, but we women do not need that Foot Blush. All this outrageous attention is enough to make our feet blush naturally.
Come on. Let’s get serious. Foot Blush? Is it not enough that we women are doomed to spend countless hours in front of the mirror making up our faces to look perfect? Are we now expected to make up our feet as well?
Clearly, the bewildering male obsession with the fine form of the female foot has reached phenomenal heights as the cosmetics industry has deemed it worth capitalizing on. And apparently, pink shy feet that blush are the ideal to be coveted.
Unfortunately, my husband is not immune to this wicked fixation. I vividly recall his first visit to my house many moons ago. When I met him at the door naively clad in my trusted sneakers, one of the first things he said was: “Why not change to slippers so you’ll feel more comfortable?” I thought nothing of this seemingly nonchalant request and innocently slid into a pair of simple rubber thongs. Upon giving my feet a slightly subtle once-over, he looked positively smitten. And at that definitive moment, I knew. If I wanted to keep my guy happy, I had to be willing to go all-out and bare my sole without restraint.
Throwing all caution the wind, I embarked on countless shopping sprees and amassed footwear which blatantly revealed some serious toe cleavage. (Sadly, all my conservative shoes had to go via a major garage sale.) I became a foot spa habitué as I unrelentingly got scrubbed, soaked and slathered to ensure that I remained impeccably smooth, non-callous and corn-free. I wore pedicures in bright, eye-catching colors. I even dared flaunting a toe ring. Too late, I realized that I had turned into a foot slut. Consequently, my man became besotted, blown away, literally head-over-heels in love with me.
As I got to know more males, I learned my husband was more the rule than the exception. Majority of men truly are hopeless foot fiends. When they look a woman over from head to toe, they really do…with their eyes lingering a little bit longer on the toe part rather than the head part. And whereas they used to keep their bizarre fixation secret, they are now more blatant about it and do not hesitate to exchange foot notes in public:
“Did you notice how fabulously smooth my girlfriend’s feet are?”
“Her feet are as soft as a baby’s, I could drown in them.”
“Man, how I want to get a taste of those Popsicle toes!”
“Those red nails are driving me insane.”
“That lady has some nerve…she should just wear closed shoes.”
Sorry, but we women do not need that Foot Blush. All this outrageous attention is enough to make our feet blush naturally.
3 comments:
hello!well m not really a foot guy but i gues from wat u said,its geting to be the in-thing.but db puro callos feet mo?jk haha-david
Very nice site! » » »
I better, perhaps, shall keep silent
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