If the shoe fits

This article was published on Sunday, July 5th.....

I WALK up the stairs to my new office building, clomping right, left, right, left. Askance stares follow me as I climb. Then, a pause, as I approach the door leading into the corridor. I let out a slightly exasperated sigh and unzip my purse. After sifting through papers, pens and far too many kinds of lip balm, I find the sandals hidden at the bottom of my bag. Discretely, I slip one foot out of a knee-high marine-blue rubber boots and slip on gently the silver straps of my flip-flop. Then repeat with the other foot.

And so begins the delicate juggling act of constantly carrying two kinds of footwear. Something I advise all of Mumbai to get accustomed to when the cats and dogs are pouring out of the sky.

As I sit here typing, they lay at my feet, waiting. Acting as an informal umbrella holder, they remind me of a different place and time – when everyone wore wellies and no one thought twice about it. But here, it is an enigma and I am the only one.

The main advantage of having rubber boots in the monsoon is probably pretty evident. When it’s really coming down, I don’t have to worry about navigating through the puddles and the potholes: I can stomp in the dirtiest, deepest water without fear. My feet will stay dry and my ghost-white skin will stay that colour.

There is, of course, the added effort involved in traipsing around with a few extra pounds of rubber attached to your feet. When walking uphill or stepping on to high curbs, I can definitely feel the burn. But given my rather sedentary working day (I’m new on the job), it’s a welcome chance and, well, a free workout.

What about the fashion statement, you ask. It’s bold, yes. Forward thinking, possibly. A little crazy, most definitely. But fashion is about challenging what is expected and conventional and throwing caution to the wind. Though in this case, I am actually embracing caution, lovingly, and with both arms. So maybe fashion can be daring and practical at the same time.

The downside, other than looking fairly ridiculous, is managing to carry boots, shoes, a handbag, the occasional newspaper and the odd cup of chai. But I think I’ve worked it out. The shoes can go in the handbag, the umbrella can go in the boots (if they’re not too wet), the tea can sit on the newspaper. As long as I don’t breathe too heavily or make sudden movements, this balancing act seems to work.

As the cooling Mumbai rain falls, my boots insulate and warm my tired tootsies. Sometimes too much, sometimes not enough. At Leopold’s Café, they just absolutely had to come off. But at a play on the same night, where the air conditioning was on over-drive, my feet stayed toasty warm.

So, with still many more months of monsoon, my daily footwear ritual won’t be changing anytime soon. With my blue boots as my trusted travel companions, I may not be singing in the rain, but my feet, at least, are happy again.