Recently, a PR person asked me if I’d be interested in trying a new pair of orthopedic sandals. I was super into it, of course—my love of comfort footwear is long and abiding. I was a die-hard Birkenstock fan long before the fashionable crowd embraced them, and yo, Imma let you finish, but I’ve been wearing Worishofers since the only place to buy them in NYC was at an elderly-person specialty store. But when my Wellrox sandals came in the mail, even I was stunned by their ‘unique’ look.
These toe-dividing sandals look like what would happen if those foam pedicure separators met a pile of granola and sand, then made a demon baby that visited me in my nightmares. But since I’ve had good luck thus far with ugly, comfortable shoes, I wanted to give them a fair shot. And as I walked around the office in them, with all the other BUST staffers looking at my feet in horror, I went through a modified version of the Kübler-Ross stages of grief: confusion, disgust, bargaining, acceptance, and admiration. If you have any form of foot or toe pain, like I frequently do, these Wellrox are a gift from the heavens. After a minute or so of wearing, the toe separators are barely noticeable, and the wide footbed cradles your soles the way a mother panda firmly yet tenderly holds its infant. I’m not wearing mine right now, but just writing this is making me wish I were.
A few weeks into incorporating Wellrox into my life, I’m getting frequent compliments from other ladies on the street. And though these strangers may just be mocking me, I’m gonna choose to believe otherwise. Yes, these are “hella gnarly,” as my Californian college roommate used to say. But with them on, my feet and legs feel incredible, which results in a much happier version of me. And as for them not looking traditionally cute, to quote this “My Little Pony” gif, “look at all the fucks I give.” You can take my Wellrox away when you pry them from between my cold, dead toes.
