Which is the odd one out? Well Sandie, Zola and Joss all famously perform in their respective fields barefooted. Geoff Gibson? Well he walked home from work last night carrying his trainers and it wasn't an unpleasent experience!
I suppose you need the full story. Yesterday I was in work from 2pm until late, and as I looked out of the window before setting off I could see Southampton was enjoying another balmy afternoon. Not the kind of day to be wearing heavy jeans and a coat. It was a perfect opportunity to give my legs an airing for the first time since 1980 in one of the pairs of 3/4 shorts I bought recently. I don't own any of those tiny sports socks, so I wore my new trainers sockless.
If it wasn't for the fact my legs were as white as a glacier and still spotted with mosquito bite scars, the overall outfit wasn't too abysmal. (If you want the full picture I had a thin navy polo shirt on too). As I set off, my transition lenses went jet black and I looked to all the world like a bona fide sun worshipper. (Well, again, ignoring the pasty, spotty legs)
Ok, so I got to work, and there was a tiny blister developing at the back of both heels. Really nothing painful (I had already worn the shoes all day at Haydock, so it wasn't like they needed breaking in), but enough for me to kick my trainers off as soon as I was sat at my desk. Barefooted for 9 hours as I tapped away at my keyboard. The whole office and communal areas are all carpeted, the only place that isn't is the toilet which is a sort of laminate. All very pleseant for someone flashing their toes to the world.
When it came to going home, I put my trainers back on, but by now my feet had swollen slightly, and the blisters had hardened over. Every step was agony. I got no more than 100 yards down the road when I realised I wasn't going to make it this way...
...so I undid the zelcro, picked up my footwear, and started again.
It's Saturday night remember, prime drunk time, and Southampton had drawn with Millwall at home earlier on. Thankfully I hardly met anyone, but even if I had, I don't think I looked that strange. The pavement from work to home has all recently been repaved (remember those roadworks I complained about for months? Finally I've found a benefit for all the sleepless nights!)
The only times I flinched was when I crossed a road and had to walk on proper tarmac. Tarmac wasn't designed for barefeet. I also had issues with those pink-coloured bobbled tiles you get at pedestrian crossings to help blind people. I'm sure the occular disabled find them a boon, but I was grumbling about them under my breath on several occasions.
But I got home, no problems, no more rubbing on my blisters, ten minutes less wear & tear on my trainers...
...all in all a successful experiement for once.
I suppose you need the full story. Yesterday I was in work from 2pm until late, and as I looked out of the window before setting off I could see Southampton was enjoying another balmy afternoon. Not the kind of day to be wearing heavy jeans and a coat. It was a perfect opportunity to give my legs an airing for the first time since 1980 in one of the pairs of 3/4 shorts I bought recently. I don't own any of those tiny sports socks, so I wore my new trainers sockless.
If it wasn't for the fact my legs were as white as a glacier and still spotted with mosquito bite scars, the overall outfit wasn't too abysmal. (If you want the full picture I had a thin navy polo shirt on too). As I set off, my transition lenses went jet black and I looked to all the world like a bona fide sun worshipper. (Well, again, ignoring the pasty, spotty legs)
Ok, so I got to work, and there was a tiny blister developing at the back of both heels. Really nothing painful (I had already worn the shoes all day at Haydock, so it wasn't like they needed breaking in), but enough for me to kick my trainers off as soon as I was sat at my desk. Barefooted for 9 hours as I tapped away at my keyboard. The whole office and communal areas are all carpeted, the only place that isn't is the toilet which is a sort of laminate. All very pleseant for someone flashing their toes to the world.
When it came to going home, I put my trainers back on, but by now my feet had swollen slightly, and the blisters had hardened over. Every step was agony. I got no more than 100 yards down the road when I realised I wasn't going to make it this way...
...so I undid the zelcro, picked up my footwear, and started again.
It's Saturday night remember, prime drunk time, and Southampton had drawn with Millwall at home earlier on. Thankfully I hardly met anyone, but even if I had, I don't think I looked that strange. The pavement from work to home has all recently been repaved (remember those roadworks I complained about for months? Finally I've found a benefit for all the sleepless nights!)
The only times I flinched was when I crossed a road and had to walk on proper tarmac. Tarmac wasn't designed for barefeet. I also had issues with those pink-coloured bobbled tiles you get at pedestrian crossings to help blind people. I'm sure the occular disabled find them a boon, but I was grumbling about them under my breath on several occasions.
But I got home, no problems, no more rubbing on my blisters, ten minutes less wear & tear on my trainers...
...all in all a successful experiement for once.
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