They say that you can tell a lot about someone just by looking at them.
Hm. That sounds a bit like a sweeping statement to me. In some cases yes. For example, you can pretty much guarantee that any man wearing an Italian suit and a Bluetooth headset will be an utter, utter wanker.
But normies like myself, we don't give too much away. Today, I am wearing a nice Primarni blouse and some high waisted Matalan trousers. Which, really, tells you nothing about me. Bar the fact that I am ever so slightly cheap.
No. That phrase doesn't ring too true for me. But I DO think you can tell quite a bit about someone by looking at their feet. I got to thinking this while watching the X Factor yesterday.
My husband's feet are so neglected it's almost funny. I say 'almost' because, when you've been sharing a bed with his eagle-like talons for nearly a decade, the hilarity fails to shine through. You just have to fight the over-whelming urge to attack his tootsies with a pair of garden sheers.
They are the feet of a man who has given up. Who no longer feels it necessary to take care of his extremities. His nails are flaky and curled at the edges. The soles of his feet long to be caressed by the pumice stone.
His are the feet of a man who has given up. Who believes he has no need real need to maintain his general appearance. After 8 years of marriage, why would one need to keep up such petty preening rituals? Why make an effort when you already know you have a wife who loves you, cleans for you, and will provide you with the occasional bit of How's-Your'Father? I'm sorted, they say, I don't have to try.
Mine are a different story. Short, painted nails. Smooth heels. A little bit of Johnson's Summer Skin to give them a bit of a glow. They are the feet of a woman who cares about her appearance. Who goes that extra mile. Who is making an effort - maybe not just for herself.
Mind you, my tootsies weren't always like this. A year ago, the paint would be peeling, the nails would be a little too long. The skin would be rougher. Back then, they were the feet of a woman who was tired of trying. Who genuinely wanted to make the effort, but after years of going unnoticed, was apathetic and uninspired.
...Hubby could learn a lot by looking at my feet. In fact, maybe he'd learn a little too much.