Hobbit Feet

Hi guys! Welcome back to my blog! I am so happy and honoured you chose to be here. It is a rather strange choice, but yay!


If the act of primping and making your feet nice and smooth brings you peace, then I am happy for you. But personally, I think it is quite the pointless task to make one's feet nice. Feet are just a mode of transportation, they are not movie stars.

My feet are square and gigantic and for most of my life I had never bothered to primp them into looking like anything other than they are. But occasionally, I get this overwhelming sense of panic that I need to "make them nice so I won't be embarrassed to go out".

It is really not fair. Men never have to think about this. In fact, it would be disturbing to discover that a man's got nice feet. Can you imagine? As your friend takes off his socks, the sight of his feet nearly blinds you, for it is white and silky, all smooth and pretty and shaped like a freshly baked good, with no sign of damage anywhere. Imagine if all men became preoccupied with primping their feet.

It comforts me greatly that my loved ones don't take this seriously. One friend said “the only people who look at your feet are people with foot fetishes or others who date them. Neither of whom you should be concerned with.” (If you are one of such people, I'd like to make clear that while I do not understand you, I believe you are free to do what you please and worship any body part you wish, however random they are.)

Anyway. Did you know that 100 years ago, women in China used to BIND their feet until they were the size of a dinner roll? My mom told me she remembers my great grandmother had such feet. That was supposed to be cute, hopping around on your tiny dinner-roll sized feet, never being able to step 10 feet (ha) outside of your own backyard. I was told that it was so they'd never run off to have affairs, whilst their old haggard husbands took in newer, fancier wives on a moment-to-moment basis, whom also had dinner-roll feet.

A few years ago, I tried a pedicure. I was in Japan at the time and I went to a very nice lady, who had the gentlest manners I'd ever seen. It was surprising because she literally dealt with people's stinky feet for a living. Maybe she was highly repressed.

After my session with her, my feet were now smooth as a baby. But as soon I stepped outside, I realized what a mistake this was. It turned out, the calluses that everyone despised so much were there for a reason. All the vulnerable spots where my shoes once rubbed were now exposed, newly ready for torture.

Fully feeling the impact from the concrete floor, I decided to never get a pedicure again. In fact, they should invent some kind of walking machine to build UP calluses, so that everyone's feet will be so coarse and rough we no longer need shoes. That's right. We will all stomp freely on our hobbit feet, for now there is one less thing to worry about.

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