The Fake Intellectual is an online collection of articles and essays written and curated by writer & photographer Thomas W Coombs, published bi-annually.

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Issue 46; 40 in Flip Flops

We have all seen those nobbled feet sticking out the bottom of some sandal, croc or flip flop in recent weeks.  Feet that have been cooped up like a battery hen in a warm moist cell and are suddenly given light and air for the first time in nine months.  Some things are just better left to the darkness.

I know the answer many will think of, flip flops are for the beach or being poolside sipping a Campari and soda filled with ice and fruit, you should never were them out of this area.  This is a very old school, thought, a bit like No Brown in town, and all you see now is a sea of oxfords and brogues in varying shades of brown.

The flip flop has a perfect function, it keeps the feet cool.  I would however not wear them into the city, they do still have their time and place in society.  But I will wear them into my sleepy town where I currently reside on occasion.  The reason it is a no to the city is more dirt, the blackness of grime your nobbled hooves will pick up is not pleasant and if like me you walk a lot when in a city you will not last long before the inevitable ache sets in.


I used to live in the flip flop in the 2000s into the 2010s but I was young and lived in jeans, t-shirts and flip flops, it is just the way we were.  But I am not 20 and I’m 40 so should I still get away with this look.  Maybe not the one of my twenties even though it was quite simple but I think part of that time is behind me.  But I can still pull off a nice flip flop look at the right time.  It is not like I am going to a restaurant, that sound as I move across the polished floor to my table, flip, flop, flip, flop, and echoing of a holiday breakfast I once had in Spain.