No andes descalza! (Don't walk barefoot!)

Carson Fisk-Vittori, Dirty Feet, 2009, Archival Inkjet Print

I am aware that many children had the primal pleasure of walking around barefoot, especially during the summer. When I was growing up, however, one of the phrases I heard my mother say most frequently was, "No andes descalza!" (Don't walk barefoot!) At home, it was simply the problem of getting our feet dirty. Getting into bed at night or sitting at the kitchen table with dirty feet was improper. But walking around barefoot in a hotel (even the nicest one) or at the pool meant inviting who knows what unwanted germs - esos microbios tan asquerosos.

As a child, my mother always made us wear pantuflas ("slippers" for you non-Spanish speakers - and yes, it's more fun to say pantuflas than it is to say slippers). I had a series of various furry and fuzzy pantuflas, and although they were on the warm and cozy side, it didn't matter too much in Los Angeles where even the hottest day would cool down in the evening. I wanted nothing to do with plastic shoes - I thought they were ugly, and they made my feet hurt and stink.

Fuzzy slippers can get downright gross.

In high school during the early 1990s, I caught that craze for Birkenstocks. After much begging, my parents finally bought me a pair of brown classic, suede Birks, which I work proudly around the college prep campus when I was a boarder at The Webb Schools. In college, I learned to be a bit more mindful of my parents' money, so I settled for a knock-off pair called Betulas, purchased from the Price Club (now Costco). Going to university in Pittsburgh, sandals were rarely worn without a pair of wool socks. Most of the time, it was freezing cold, so I wore ultra-warm pantuflas.

When I finally moved out on my own to Austin, Texas, in 1998, I discovered that the town was full of flip-flop loving people. But I would never wear these dreaded chanclas, with a piece of plastic wedged in between my toes to keep them in place. It was too hot for pantuflas (besides, they collect so much dust and hair!), and my Birks and Betulas were completely worn out, so for the first time, I had the guilty delight of walking around barefoot.

Purple camo pattern chanclas, about to get retired.

But when you go to the pool and the cement is 150 degrees, or you are walking around in a questionable hotel room, you begin to realize that flip flops are a really good idea. Unfortunately, I always realized this at the last minute, so I'd wind up with $3 cheapo pairs from Walgreens that fell apart after a year. The current pair I own have somehow survived three years. They are faded and cracking, still holding together in their ugly purple camo pattern glory, but they've kept my feet germ free. Still, I can't comfortably wear them out, and they don't give my clumsy feet the support they need.

I've decided it's time for another pair in a color I actually like - and it turns out they are doing a deal of $15 for $30 for Okabashi flip flops through Descuento Libre! Even better, they're eco-friendly and have proper foot support, and they come in all sorts of solid color combinations. With this offer, I can get a pair for Shand. After all, we share a bed, and who wants dirty feet beneath the sheets? My mother was right all along.

My next pair of chanclas will be from Okabashi!

Cowboy boots aren't just for Texans

I grew up in Southern California - the Los Angeles greater metropolitan area, to be exact. Not exactly rural. The only cowboy boots to be seen around were in Hollywood, usually worn by women to give a unique twist to a glam rock outfit or perhaps by the Nashvillian musician coming out west to try his luck on the big screen.

Since moving to Austin, I've gradually adopted Texan ways. "Y'all" slips into my speech every now and then, I've developed a slight drawl and started dropping g's at the end of my words, I enjoy a cold Lone Star on the porch during an old-timey music jam, and I get cold when it drops below 80 degrees. But I never thought I'd own a pair of cowboy boots.

When I first started a job with the Texas FFA (Future Farmers of America), one of the perks was receiving a complimentary pair of boots from Justin, who was a sponsor of the non-profit. I reluctantly accepted the offer, thinking I'd order a pair that would sit my closet collecting dust or get pawned off on Ebay. I flipped through the catalog to find the most basic, comfortable looking, plain black boots I could find.

The day I got the boots, though, I was drawn to the shiny, dark leather and the classic, stitched pattern. I immediately put them on, and I felt as if they had meant to be on my feet all my life. That night, I went to see a traditional Irish band play in Niederwald, Texas - I danced for hours wearing my brand new pair of boots. My feet were not even a tiny bit sore the next day. These boots were magical!

I have worn them almost every day since I first got them in June of 2006, and I even bought another pair of the exact same kind (one pair are my city boots, and the other are for the desert in Terlingua). I'm ready for a third pair - although I might opt for brown this time to add a little variety to my wardrobe. After that, I might have to get red, then multi-colored...yes, I'm hooked on boots.

And here's a fun little video about those pointy, elf-like boots you've been seeing around lately - "botas picudas" or "chuntaros":

Be Happy Wearing Your Brand New Expensive Shirt

GoAnimate.com: Be Happy Wearing Your Brand New Expensive Shirt by Undercover Mexican Girl

Like it? Create your own at GoAnimate.com. It's free and fun!

This is Recovery

To be honest, I haven’t been keeping close tabs on the economic news, but I do hear hurrahs about how the recession is over, and we are on the road to recovery. Apparently, sales are growing, new jobs are on the horizon, and people have hope and faith that everything is going to turn out okay. How can it not get better, right? And by the way, gas prices are down from that major spike that happened in early May, so it’s no problem to hop back into your SUV and take a summer road trip across the country. (Never mind that despite the drop, they are still at an all-time high since the 1970s.)

A few weekends ago, as we were turning the corner into our neighborhood, we saw the telephone pole plastered with “yard sale” and “garage sale” signs – more than I’d ever seen in one place at any given time. We even had our own at the beginning of April, to start weeding out excess belongings in the hopes of one day moving to our property on Terlingua Ranch in the Big Bend desert, completely off grid. It was curious to see that the items we had always considered most valuable were not interesting to our neighborhood shoppers – exotic antiques and brand name clothing pieces were passed over in favor of generic doorknobs and plastic containers.

Over the last six years, we’ve led a fairly practical and frugal life. We don’t buy clothes unless we can find them for a bargain at the thrift store, we keep our AC at 80 in the summer and the heater around 60 in the winter, we’ve maintained our 1983 Diesel Mercedes to avoid buying a newer car and having payments, and the library is our main source for books, music, and movies. Our furniture and home décor is a delightful hodgepodge of items discarded on bulk trash days (which Shand has masterfully restored), hand me downs, thrift store finds, and a small handful of IKEA and antique store splurges from the days when we were a two-income household. (Designing on dime isn’t just entertainment on HGTV.)

Some people comment about how difficult it is to let go of personal possessions – I imagine, in some cases, it is heartbreaking if you have some kind of memory attached to it, or you spent a lot of money on it when you bought it brand new. Since most of our belongings have come into our home either free or at a very low cost, it’s no problem for me to send them along the way with a new owner. I joke that if there ever were a fire, the only things I would take with me are my laptop, a suitcase of childhood diaries, my violin, and my 2 dogs.

I have to wonder how much hard-earned money goes down the drain at so many of these neighborhood yard sales? For instance, right next door they were selling a giant sports-bar sized TV (as tall as me!) for $10 and a nearly brand new SUV for $5,000. Were these purchases ever made with the idea that one day they would be worthless or that they would have to be sold in order to afford putting food on the table and paying the bills? Think twice before you buy something, whether it’s a $50 shirt or a $500 sofa. Do you really intend to hang on to it forever, or is there a chance it might wind up on a folding table on your driveway a year from now? If you’ve been living a comfortable life up until now, don’t gamble on material belongings. Give up the addiction for consuming and shopping – maybe you will be able to avoid recovery by means of purging.