The Luv Doc: Above the Knees
It's unhealthy to obsess over your least attractive feature
By The Luv Doc, Fri., Dec. 30, 2022
Dear Luv Doc,
I've been dating a really nice gal and I like her, but she has horrible feet! It really bothers me but I don't want to tell her. What should I do?
– Not My Toe Jam
Thank you, NMTJ! I was worried I was going to make it all the way to the end of the year without any foot fetish columns, then you threw me a Hail Mary late in the fourth quarter ... and in a month where traditionally you don't see a lot of unstockinged feet, even though there is a preponderance of unfooted stockings. Even with all the dashing and dancing and prancing, the holidays must be especially hard on the casual, uncommitted foot fetishist. I imagine the only reliable action is health club saunas, steam rooms, and hot tubs. Those places are probably teeming with foot fetishists sweating away an unhealthy amount of water weight trying to get a glimpse of the perfect pair.
Truly the only reason I am not logging a lot of winter hours in that sultry trinity myself is an abject fear of exposing my feet to the judgment of all those podiatric connoisseurs – and not just because my feet look like they were hammered with a mallet and then poured back into a shoe that was cobbled by a small child with the shakes. I don't even wear Skechers anymore. It's mostly because when it gets too cold to swim in Deep Eddy I get lax with my foot care routine – not because I don't prefer perfectly pedicured piggies, but because I spend a lot more time in socks. I just forget. I mean, I forget until I hear an unshorn toenail zipping across my bedsheet in the middle of the night and think, "Good God! Is that me? I really need to take care of that." Then, secure in the knowledge that I have a foolproof plan to set things right the very next day, I drift off into such a blissful slumber that I forget I even have toenails when I wake up in the morning.
It's a shameful admission, I know – especially since I sort of pride myself on keeping my shit tight on my top digits. It's not like I am getting regular manicures, but I do own a pair of clippers and one thing you won't often hear when I am crafting this column is the sound of unshorn fingernails clicking across the keyboard. Nope – pretty much just the dull thud of a hunt-and-pecking index finger because what kind of crazy person wants to spend an elective on a typing class? You feel me. Right?
So, maybe not surprisingly, I have a certain amount of empathy for people with horrible feet. I get it. In fact, I would argue that it's unhealthy to obsess over your least attractive feature, but I think it's fair to expect at least a modicum of hygiene. Like, no one wants to encounter toe fungus, toe jam, leathery calluses, or dangerously jagged hangnails. Actual foot odor is totally fucking unacceptable regardless of the excuse. Seriously. CVS has nearly a whole aisle. Look into it. Ugly feet, though? They don't have an aisle for that – well, maybe they do. They might sell socks. No shame in that game.
It's a rare foot that can look ugly even underneath a sock. Maybe you can convince your really nice gal that she looks best in socks. They're not a bouquet of roses, but who doesn't like getting a cool pair of socks? Atown on Burnet has a whole wall full of them – and it's not like you're asking this nice gal to put a bag over her head. There are no windows to the soul in her feet, right? She'll be able to hear, smell, and eat in a pair of socks, so no harm no foul, right? Conversely, you could just try to avoid looking at her feet. She clearly has other attributes besides her niceness, otherwise you wouldn't be writing me. Figure out what those are and try to focus on them. Hopefully they will be above the knees.