My feet…well, they’re considered“wide” at 4-1/4 inches.  They’re also quite long, at 10-1/4 inches.  As an adult, I’ve appreciated the fact that both the width and length help to keep me upright, which is not a bad thing, but like any girl with a size 10 plus-inch foot, I used to think my feet were way too big and wished desperately for a“normal” size 7. I can now rationalize and chuckle at just how ridiculous that would have looked on my 5’10” frame.

 I was born in New Jersey, but spent most of my adolescent life growing up in a small town in northern Pennsylvania with my younger sister. My parents had 137 acres, the perfect place to run barefoot through the grasslands and forests dreaming up and collaborating on big ideas.My childhood friends at a very young age would marvel at my ability to run over sharp gravel and stones barefoot. 

My foot phenomenon is genetics at its best. The combination of my mom’s childhood frolics of barefoot bliss mixed with my father’s very unusually long toes make for a hereditary masterpiece. My sister, who’s four years younger, holds the same abilities… but I don’t know ifshe can drink a glass of wine with her toes, a little trick I picked up on a dare a few years back. However, I’m almost certain she could if she tried.  

I can pick anything up with my toes, which are long like extended fingers. This “skill” has the uncanny ability to freak people out, especially my husband.  Why, I’m really not sure. I find it just as peculiar that most people can’t pick up pencils off the floor without bending over.

One other small distinction between me and almost everyone else is that I don’t ever wear socks…so I don’t own any.  I haven’t owned a pair of socks in more than 20 years. Ironically, and probably for good reason, my feet don’t sweat or smell.  Socks are therefore suffocating to my feet; it’s like having a pillow over my face. No room to breathe or move.  Wearing socks is considered borderline abusive in my world.

The big “upside” for remaining barefoot is that it’s extremely light on the wallet. I’m not a shoe shopper,nor will I ever be…with one exception. I do like flip-flops; I consider them as my “Jimmy Chu’s.”  

Look down at your tootsies…maybe you haven’t been listening to them. Are they wiggling at you?  They just might want to be free. Listen to them; go barefoot!

 -- Danielle (fearless with no shoes)