I kick so much ass at Photoshop.

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The alternative has not been easy. As woeful as they are to look at, tennis shoes are damn comfortable. And considering that I spend hours upon hours walking in a new city (I’m regularly on my feet for 6 hours at a time, taking a quick break for lunch, or cupcakes, or to sit down on the subway on my way to more cupcakes), it’s been hard to find something that works without leaving my back and knees aching (it does not help that I have inherited my mother’s tendency to carry a purse the size of an Ewok with me.) I generally opt for converse (what they lack in arch support, they make up for in street cred), or ballet flats which have not been designed for heavy walking (the brand-new pair I brought with me to New York last are now the shoe-equivalent of a Lohan. Rough-living makes them look far older than they are).

And yes, I pack heels. I realize the followers of Rick Steves are cringing in their denim dress shirts and khakis at the thought of me traipsing around the lower east side in three-inch-tall peep-toe confections, but I regret nothing (And I won’t be judged by people who wear socks with sandals.) Besides, I had my converse to fall back on. Or, at least, I did, until they met their demise in an incident that will be known simply “A-pooh-calypse.” (I am still debating whether or not I am going to tell you about that one).

I was now left with a pair of high heels, a pair of black dressy sandals, and ballet flats that were falling apart. And after sludging through Boston on a chilly day in the rain, with soaked toes, I realized, rather painfully, I needed tennis shoes.

Now, I’ll admit: I get a lot of joy out of shopping. But shopping under duress, when you’re desperately trying to find something warm enough/ water-proof enough/comfortable enough to wear for the rest of your trip, is absolutely heinous. Fortunately, I had some idea of what I wanted. I’d spoken to a few people who had embraced the idea of thin-soled shoes – ones that closely mimic what it’s like to walk around barefoot (yes, these are the same folks who wander around in those weird five-toed shoes you see everywhere). They preached the virtues of their new shoes with all the enthusiasm of the recently saved. Apparently god exists, in the form of really good arch support.

So, after reading a few dozen reviews on Zappos preaching the merits of the Merrell Barefoot Pace Glove, I walked into the Macy’s in downtown Boston and snatched up a pair. They didn’t have the individual toe holes (there is no way I’m wearing a pair of those. Sorry.) but the sole is supposedly the same (Merrell apparently collaborated with Vibram to create the shoe.) And the next day, against my better judgement, I wore them for roughly 6 hours. Here is a breakdown of how things went:

Day 1: I had read how fans of these shoes were amazed with how much more connected they were to the surfaces they walked on (“You can tell when you’re walking on gravel or grass.”) I found this a rather strange thing to say, because I generally tend to notice that with all shoes that I wear. What I did notice is that the muscles in my feet were flexing in some really weird ways. And my toes were twitching like an addict in withdrawal. What. The. Hell. I also felt like I had to work harder with each step – kind of like when you have to walk on sand. My arches felt like they had been stretched, and at the end of the day my feet and legs were tired, but not really sore. Also, my back didn’t hurt! I didn’t want to take my new shoes off.

Day 2: Dear god, what have I done? I tried to wear my new shoes again, but my Achilles tendon and ankle on my left foot are so not down with that. The back of my ankle felt like it was being stretched, and painfully so. I’d read this phenomenon happens with people who wear heels all the time and suddenly switch to flats – but as someone who wore flats, I was confused. And in serious pain. So I bought some converse. By the end of the day my back hurt, but I didn’t care.

Day 3: No way I was going to wear those bastard shoes again.

Day 4: Still nope.

Day 5: Now home, I figured I’d give them another shot. My Achilles tendon was still hurting, but it did feel comparably better than it had. And other than that, my feel did feel great. It seemed like I was actually getting a work-out when I walked, and not just like I was trudging around, destroying my knees and ankles.

Day 6: I might wear these again today. No, really.

Bottom line? I think that the thin-soled shoe has potential, especially if you start wearing them in moderation, and don’t immediately decide to run all around town in them. If you give your feet time, they’ll actually adapt pretty well to these. Of course, there remains the problem that they still aren’t that cute. I might pack them on a trip … but I’m still bringing my heels with me, too.

I once thought that I was immune to such ugliness. When searching for comfortable shoes online, there were so many options, I’d simply skip over the unappealing ones and straight to the cute. My brain has its own filter for this sort of thing. And yet, there are times when a shoe is so unsightly, it will not be ignored. It screams to be noticed. “LOOK AT ME!”, it shouts. “I WAS DESIGNED BY DRUNK KINDERGARTNERS!”

Some of these shoes are impractical. Others are baffling.

All of them are very, very ugly.

Here are the top twelve worst pairs I’ve encountered while digging through the bowels of Zappos. Enjoy.

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1. Arcopedico N42

Seriously? N42 is what you are going to call the shoe? Sweet Jesus. Put in a little effort. Give it a name. May I suggest “The Bertha”?

Also, they appear to melting.

Ugh. These look like what the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man would wear when he wants to get laid.

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2. Clarks Wallabee

These look like they’ve been whittled from a chunk of driftwood.

Mmm. Splintery.

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3. Trotters Blast Two

Let’s ignore for a second that this brand is called “Trotters”, a name that instantly brings to mind pigs in footwear. Instead, let’s try to think of a practical application for these:

"Klondike hooker" is the demographic they're targeting here, I think.

They looked like they were ripped from the wardrobe of a holiday-themed adult film (a genre which, if it doesn’t already exist, needs to immediately. May I suggest the title Jingle Balls: Dashing Through the Hos?). But other than the rare occasion when Mrs. Claus gets frisky, I’m at a loss as to who, exactly would wear these.

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4. Hush Puppies Classic Walker

These are the footwear equivalent of a coma. They aren’t that unpleasant, but you deserve more out of life, and everyone around you is saddened by them.

Sorry. Your shoes are making me drowsy.

Bonus! For some reason, the back of these shoes has a rather cryptic message.

WTF.

“The Body Shoe”? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

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5. Softwalk Lago

These shoes are ugly, yes, but more importantly, they defy sense: if they’re open at the back, WHY DO THEY NEED A STRAP ACROSS THE TOP? That’s like getting a cavity filled on your dentures.

MAKE MORE SENSE.

For reasons that boggle the mind, they’re also available in lavender.

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6. Walking Cradles Alicia

You know how sometimes you’ll see, like, a really old biker? And they try to look badass in their leather jackets, but really, they’re just little and old? And the whole scene is kind of off?

These shoes are kinda like that:

This is how Harley Davidson does orthopedic.

And yet … I KIND OF WANT THEM. I know. I’m scared, too.

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7. Easy Spirit TravelTime 15

Ever wonder why McDonald’s Grimace is the only one of his kind? Supposedly he had a family, but we’ve never seen them before.  WHY? BECAUSE THEY WERE SKINNED TO MAKE THESE:

Made from 100% pure whatever-the-hell-Grimace-is.

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8. Crocs Malindi

Are Crocs heinous? Absolutely. They might be the worse thing to happen to fashion since Rachel Zoe and her expressionless face convinced us all that anorexia is the new normal. Looking at this pair of Crocs, you may initially think  they aren’t that bad, since by comparison they are soooo much cuter than the original.

Pretending to be something they aren't.

BUT THEY AREN’T. Why? Because they’re Crocs attempting to NOT BE UGLY, and that’s even more pathetic somehow. It’s like, “I tried, and still, this is the best I could do.”

Also, they’re still made of plastic. Attention Zappos reviewers: want to know why your feet are sweaty? Because wearing these is the hygienic equivalent of swaddling your feet in Saran Wrap.

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9. Salomon XT Wings 2

What colorblind moron conceived these?

GAH! My eyes!

Seriously. Somewhere there’s an 80s make-over montage that’s missing its shoes.

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10. Mephisto Sano Excess

I find the name of this shoe hilarious, because it seems to imply that people who but it have an excess of sanity, when clearly the opposite is true. These look like they belong on a cross-dressing Frankenstein.

Fire, bad! Shoes, also bad!

Also, $280?! Are you serious? For that price, I’ll just go barefoot and hire a cabana boy to rub my feet.

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11. Jambu Capri

Remember those times when you were a kid, and you realized that you had a HUGE school project the next day that you’d totally forgotten about? So in the brief, rushed minutes before bed, you grabbed whatever you could find and glued it together, as a testament to your procrastination and shame?

This is the shoe equivalent of that.

Also, what's up with all the red?

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12. Onex Venus

Apparently Zappos thinks 3-inch acrylic heels belong in the “comfort” category.

"Pack up your plastic heels, Betty! We're going to Disneyland!"

Lesson for the day, kids: When you’re purchasing a pair of shoes, “clear” should never be a color option. That is all.

Class dismissed.

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]]> http://www.everywhereist.com/12-of-the-ugliest-comfort-shoes-ever/feed/ 14 http://www.everywhereist.com/superfluous-travel-item-i-need-kinda-suitcase-stickers/ http://www.everywhereist.com/superfluous-travel-item-i-need-kinda-suitcase-stickers/#comments Thu, 22 Jul 2010 16:00:22 +0000 Everywhereist http://www.everywhereist.com/?p=2332 Okay, fine – this isn’t exactly a STINK that I need.

After all, I don’t need to spend several long hours being interrogated by Homeland Security. And I don’t need to be strip searched, and, most likely, cavity searched as well.

Still, these decals are just about the funniest way I’ve seen to make your suitcase distinguishable from the countless others that come sliding down the conveyor belt in baggage claim. It’s only $25 for a set of four decals: cocaine, piles of money, sex toys, and kidnapped flight attendant (which is my least favorite – I find it too disturbing). But while the price is probably more than worth a laugh, I suspect that these stickers are bound to get you into some serious trouble …

I can hear the latex gloves squeaking in anticipation. (Photo courtesy of TheCheeky.com)

It’s not that I think that TSA-holes can’t distinguish between two dimensional stickers and an actual tear in a suitcase that reveals massive quantities of cash or other suspicious or illegal items. But I do think that having a sticker like that on your suitcase is going to garner a lot of attention, and some of it will likely come from Homeland Security.

I can just see this conversation happening between two TSA-holes:

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Agent 1: Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Dude, check out that suitcase! It makes it look like it’s full of cocaine!

Agent 2: We should probably do a manual search of that bag.

Agent 1: What? Dude, it’s just a sticker.

Agent 2: Yeah, but what better way to fool us than to put a cocaine sticker on a suitcase that’s actually full of cocaine.

Agent 1: Whoa. That’s heavy, dude.

Agent 2: Like, it exceeds 50 pounds?

Agent 1: What?

Agent 2: Huh?

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——– End scene ———

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I can’t tell if these particular suitcase decals are more or less likely to get you in trouble than the x-ray bags I mentioned in a previous STINK. But they have inspired me to write a one-act play featuring the patriotic antics of two well-meaning but moronic TSA agents. Stay tuned.

RoundTrip’s line of vintage “upcycled” suitcases and bags (available through Etsy) sort of fall into that same category. I really want one, but then I would own a piece of luggage that just might be too hip for me.  I don’t know if my tender ego could handle that. Check them out:

Okay, so I don't actually wear enough hats to necessitate a hat box, BUT STILL. Desire knows no logic.

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You must love the little birdies so to give them THAT to perch on ...

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They use a variety of vintage bags and luggage, including hard-shelled Samsonite and American Tourister suitcases that remind me of the ones we had when I was little. Suitcases that were dragged to Italy and back many times by my mom and grandparents. RoundTrip’s designer has made them distinctly her own with silhouettes and images hand-drawn in waterproof, heat-set paint. The result is unique and whimsical.

No silhouette Godzilla? Ah, well. Still pretty neat.

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I saw some cute little hipster gal carrying on of these sans decal. She'd have probably given her right arm tattoo for this.

Still, I’m sure if I bought one, it would hang out in the closet with all the other items I own that are just too cool to fit my dork aesthetic: The sailor pants from Anthropologie that are waiting for me to lose 10 pounds, my Harvey’s Treecycle seatbelt bag, and those 4-inch grey suede heels I only wore once. They’d probably get together and have parties and not invite me. Damn them all.

Plus, I’d be absolutely petrified of checking one of RoundTrip’s bags, for the additional fear of losing it. Fortunately, though, they dabble in carry-ons as well:

Mmm ... vintage upcycled handbag carry-on (drools).

I mean, come on – I’m almost cool enough to pull that off, right? RIGHT?

P.S. – all photos used with the generous permission of the folks at RoundTrip. As per usual, no goods, services, or snack cakes were exchanged in the making of this post. I just like their stuff.

That being said, OMG. I want one:

Ork Neighborhood Posters are designed by Jenny Beorkrem, who was kind enough to email me the photos in this post. What amazed me most about her neighborhood posters is how accurate they are – while I can only really speak for Seattle (and Manhattan, a little bit), the placement of the neighborhoods is spot on. I suspect she’s got some locals helping her out. I love the red on her Boston map:

I’m considering making these my go-to gift for friends parting from or moving to Seattle (note: if you fall into that group and don’t get one, it’s likely laziness. Or we’re not really friends).  And for a visualist like me, they’re actually really helpful in getting a bit of an understanding about how a city is laid out. Except for Portland. While well executed, it nevertheless looks like someone sneezed on the layout and scattered letters and neighborhoods all over the place. But that’s Portland’s fault.

The posters are pretty darn reasonable, considering how cool they are. For a little more than $20, you can pretend you’ve been to Manhattan, Boston, Seattle, and a handful of other metropolises. Or just pick up Ork’s Heart Poster for some non-geographically-specific whimsy.

p.s. – Like I even need to say this, but as always, my product posts are about stuff I like. No products, money, or livestock changed hands during the creation of this entry.

It took me like 2 hours to make this graphic. I'm such a lamewad.

There may be something wrong with me. I’ve accepted this (and if you’re still reading my blog, you should have, too, by now). I just went through every lip balm I own, analyzing, scrutinizing, and testing them. Fortunately, my neurosis is your gain! Here are my suggestions/cautionary tales for balms, whether you have a have long dry flight ahead of you, or plans to kiss Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream.

1. Cherry ChapStick – The only thing that really comes to mind when I see the pale red waxy sheen of ChapStick is that circa 1990 Tracey Thibodeaux told me she once ate an entire tube of it in a single bite. This always shocked me as Tracey was, in my 5th grade esteem, rather perfect. And while its epicurial advantages are still up for debate, as a lip balm, it fails. Using a red crayola is just about as effective.
2. Carmex – I’m not quite sure who designs the packing for Carmex, but “Looks like it’s just been fished out of a WWII pilot’s gunny sack” isn’t an aesthetic I strive for in my beauty products. Besides that, it contains salicylic acid, which is incredibly drying (you usually find it in acne treatments), and serves to bleach out lips’ natural pigment. Be afraid.
3. Burt’s Bees – Generally, I stay away from cosmetics that feature the Gorton’s Fisherman (frozen fish-based snacks are another story). But despite the presence of a gristled Burt on most of the packages, Burt’s Bees products are all-natural, and nicely moisturizing, even though they include peppermint oil (a natural drying agent). Plus they come in both Chapstick-like tubes as well as cute little tins, and you can even get tinted versions.
4. Blistex Lip Medex – Despite having one of the worst brand names ever (Seriously? Blistex is the best you could come up with? Was Herpex* taken?), Blistex Lip Medex is a pretty decent product. It comes in a cute little pot and includes oil of cloves in its ingredients (which is apparently awesome). In addition to moisturizing your lips, it’s also nicely cooling, and was particularly soothing the time I gnawed off half my lip in a Novocaine-induced haze.
5. Dr. Dan’s Cortibalm – My dermatologist recommends this product for her patients with severe ecezma or those on Accutane (translation: those experiencing drier skin than you could ever imagine. Also, warning: website features some pretty gnarly-looking lips). It works fantastically well, and reigns as one of my absolute favorite beauty products. It includes hydrocortizone, which reduces inflammation and keeps your lips soft for hours, no matter how wind-burned or dry they were. Bring on the foreign men.

*Note from the Everywhereist: Apparently Herpex was taken:

photo courtesy of gama-go.com

The cover flap of Gama-go’s Getaway messenger bag features a gun, multiple passports, and a toothbrush (for the hijacker with hygiene!). I actually tried it on and found the buckle to be a bit heavy. So that’s why I didn’t get it (and not because my husband said I’d get arrested). Meanwhile, ThinkGeek has their own X-Ray bag, which is slightly less likely to get you dragged away in handcuffs. Remember: I said slightly.

photo courtesy of ThinkGeek.com

Since both of these have been vetoed because somebody hates getting strip-searched (cause he’s a big baby), I think the most I can get away with are these:

photo courtesy of gama-go.com

What do you say, honey?