Monday, 4 August 2014

Foot Therapy

Have you ever hear that lovely old sexist observation that one can tell how well a woman takes care of herself by her feet? I've heard it said in both polite and vulgar language, and although it is a patriarchal construct, so are we, hard as we may resist.

I've always loved my feet. They are pretty. Nicely formed with high arches- an accident of nature that I've always been inordinately proud of, as if I could take credit for it myself. Maybe because of that old sexist belief, maybe simply because I love my feet, I've always taken care of them. Don't get me wrong, they're not tiny, petite, so-called "aristocratic" feet. I wear a size 8-1/2 shoe, and if I have my druthers I wear no shoes at all. For all that I'm a nature kinda gal, a true earth mama type, I'm damn near prissy about my feet. I love pedicures, and have been in the past accustomed to treating myself to them on a fairly regular basis. The occasional pedicure however, cannot keep up with the abuse this earth mama puts her feet through, let alone meet her standards in footiquette.

So normally I spend no small amount of time in the bath with the pedi-wand, and pumice stone and after bath with the various implements of foot care.