“It’s fine if your feet are clean, but if not, get the f— away from me,” said Simon Donovan, a junior at Franklin, on the topic of students wearing flip-flops or sandals without socks at school. This is a topic of personal interest for me because — I don’t know about the rest of you — I personally am returning to school after the best summer of my life. I spent my break outside swimming, tanning, and making memories, and what was alongside me every step of the way? My trusty flip-flops. Although I am currently mourning their loss — they broke somewhat symbolically on the first day of school — this past summer, I practically lived in them. Not only are they an efficient and breathable shoe choice, but also a fashionable one.
My enthusiasm is something many of my close friends have mirrored, with sandals and flip-flops being our shoe of choice. I mean, of course, when it is 90 degrees outside, I want to wear open-toed shoes. But as the first day of school approached, I began to feel hesitant. Was I going to have to ditch my favorite footwear?
Why, you might ask? Because in our generation there is a culture of shame around people having their feet visible in open-toed shoes at school. In recent years, the term “dogs” in relation to feet has had a resurgence, after its initial popularity in the early 1900s. Now endless teenagers saying things like, “their dogs are out,” and, “I can see your dogs.” These phrases have negative connotations, shaming those who choose to have their feet out.
However, this year I decided to take matters into my own hands. Why should I have to leave my favorite shoes at home just because people are scared of feet? At Senior Sunrise, I had multiple conversations with other Franklin students defending our dignity and decision to wear flip-flops. Additionally — although it may be confirmation bias — I have observed an increase in my peers donning their sandals, flip-flops, and slides as we enter the new school year without a care in the world. In my humble opinion, feet really aren’t anything to be upset about. If you care enough about my shoes to take issue with them, that seems like your problem.
I found myself curious: What about feet at school made people so uncomfortable? I had never heard similar complaints following homecoming or prom, where people often choose to wear open-toed high heels. So, I took it upon myself, and two of my flip-flop-loving friends, to explore what the hallways of Franklin really thought about our footwear. As true reporters do, we arrived wearing close-toed shoes that day, trying to remain unbiased witnesses to the common consensus at Franklin.
Off the bat, we were met with some flip-flop hesitation. Hazel Snuffin, a junior, said she believes that flip-flops and sandals are “a summer-y type of vibe,” and that school is the “wrong space to have your toes out.” She elaborated that if she saw a fellow student wearing flip-flops during summer break, it would be different than seeing someone wear the same outfit during school.
Many other students mirrored this sentiment. Clyde Finkle, another Franklin junior, explained that he finds the extended period of time students are in the school building to be bothersome in relation to having their feet exposed. “I mean, it’s indoor, it’s kinda hot, people get all sweaty, and it’s all day, it’s just kind of a hygiene thing,” said Finkle. Hygiene was another recurring theme throughout our interviews, with many students explaining that seeing unclipped toenails was very unpleasant, and this sight was only present when students were wearing sandals or flip-flops.
While yes, I have seen some gross feet roaming the halls of Franklin, I would also add that I have seen gross hair, hands, and general poor hygiene. I don’t necessarily think it is a larger issue with feet than any other body part, hygienically. Donovan feels very strongly about the hygienics of flip-flops, saying, “Guys, put some socks on, be clean.” Finkle agreed, saying that he doesn’t pay much attention to people’s feet, adding, “It’s gross, you know?”
On the other hand, senior Tyson Kerbs argues that beyond the feet ‘problem,’ “Flip-flops are ugly, man.” Leo Krause, a sophomore, lamented that flip-flops are “unprofessional and kind of disrespectful.”
That being said, not all Franklin students are quite so against open-toed footwear. Georgia Bennett and Hazel Muñoz, two juniors, think that people should wear whatever they want. Muñoz explained that despite the culture of shame, “I feel like if it’s 90 degrees out, wear your damn birk[enstocks]s, wear your flip-flops.” Bennett elaborated, “I just think people should be able to express themselves however they want.” Freshman Jack Reed agreed, saying, “I don’t really care, they are just shoes.” He continued, “I feel like you’d be weirder commenting on it than actually, like, wearing open-toed shoes.” I strongly agree with Reed’s sentiment. If they’re not your feet, they’re not your business.
Ultimately, I find it difficult to understand how this fashion choice is somehow so controversial. In the real world, people have their feet out. Personally, I would rather just accept people’s bodily autonomy than fight back.
August Muñoz, a freshman, said it best: “It doesn’t really matter what you wear, no one should care. Wearing flip-flops and sandals with no socks is great, it’s awesome.” So, however you may feel, I know I will continue to wear my flip-flops in the future. Get over yourselves, Franklin, we’re wearing flip-flops to school.
