It has taken three years, but today is the day. The day my mother will look at this blog and go into total shock. Because her daughter has bought flat shoes. Not just flat but sensible shoes. Voluntarily. Mama? I don’t know how this happened either!
Perhaps it all started with these mails between Okka and me.
Okka: „Birkenstocks – we shouldn’t, right? RIGHT?”
Me: „Can I tell you something? I actually like them.”
Okka: „Me too!”
Me: „I blame the Danes. Everyone wore them in Copenhagen a couple of weeks ago, even the most graceful creatures – with mini-dresses and disgustingly evenly tanned legs, of course.”
Okka: „They look pretty good on Ashley Olsen, too. And, no, I can’t believe I’d ever write that sentence.”
Me: „Then again: Heidi Klum, Birkenstock design collection, the Seal years.”
Okka: „Then again: Kate Moss, vintage 1990s, the Johnny Depp years.”
Me: „Of course, when I mention the word ‘Birkenstock’ to James, he looks at me like I’ve suggested we have stuffed pig’s stomach for dinner.”
Okka: „Well, he’s not wrong. But still: the sandals in black, with two straps, could work.”
Me: „In brown they remind me of my 9th grade geography teacher, who wore them with woollen socks.”
Okka: „Wear them in white and I’ll call you Nurse Ratched.”
Me: „What about the Gizeh version?”
Okka: „Jesus sandals!”
Me: „Maybe this is all just a trick. A ploy by the designers. Make comfortable shoes, put fancy labels on them – and then wait who’s going to fall for the trend.”
Okka: „Or they’ve finally understood us and made shoes that we can actually move forward in rather than getting stuck with our heels in cobblestones.”
Me: „The Birkenstocks would be comfortable.”
Okka: „And very healthy.”
Me: „Although not elegant. At all.”
Okka: „F… elegance. They’re cool.”
Me: „Okka? We’ve been in Berlin too long.”
A week later. Okka and I meet for ice cream.
Okka: „You bought them! The Gizeh! Actually, they’re not bad. Quite good really. Damnit, now I want them too.”
Me: „I had to! My other sandals broke – 20 meters from the Birkenstock store. It was a sign.”
Me: „No kidding.”
And there’s your explanation, mama.
But, don’t worry, I’m still your daughter. Which is why I’ve established some personal guidelines for wearing the Birks.
| Never with jogging bottoms. Not even at home.
| Always with a pedicure. My friend Lise says: try neon colours. I’d say so, too.
| Or in Céline red. After all, it was Phoebe Philo who got us into this mess in the first place.
| Wear them with boyfriend jeans and a denim shirt.
| Or shorts and a silk top.
| A colourful summer dress
| A little hippie number in white
| Ah, you can wear them with almost anything!
| But never with jogging bottoms. Or to a business meeting with someone who might not understand that sometimes? Sometimes you are simply powerless in the face of a fashion trend.
And what about James? My man has gotten at least so used to the sandals that he can still smile in pictures with me.
It’s entirely possible that behind that smile he’s devising a devilish plan. He couldn’t think of buying himself a pair.