Ode to my Chacos

My sister had gotten a pair, and therefore, I wanted one, too. Despite trying to deny it, I did look up to her, and I usually followed her cues when it came to fashion. But, these pair of sandals could hardly be called fashionable.

More like chunky. Unflattering.

And yet…comfortable. Versatile. And a little bit avant-garde…all the really cool kids at college had a pair. The adventurous type…the hikers and rock-climbers…the ultimate-frisbee-playing-and-guitar-strumming students who oozed confidence and a little bit of nerdy coolness. That was me, right? Hardly.

They were expensive. $95 for a pair. Yes, a pair of sandals. But I had to have them. I remember my Dad bought them for me. Thanks Dad, for the Chacos.

I picked out ones with a blue and green pattern, my favorite colors. And I wore them everywhere. Peddling through the hot September sun to my first classes at Texas A&M, sloshing through the massive puddles that formed on the sidewalks when it rained, and climbing up the steps of the history building for my afternoon U.S history class. I loved my Chacos.

So of course I took them with me when I studied abroad in Moscow, Russia the summer before my senior year. I nearly wore them out from walking all over that grand city. Miles and miles of tread were worn away on Red Square, inside the Metro, and on countless sidewalks and city streets. I developed a distinctive “Chaco tan” on my feet: criss-crossed stripes. While the native Russian women strode about in high-heels and platform shoes, I clogged along with my bulky Chacos. Old women would stare at my sandals, but I didn’t care. My feet weren’t grossly malformed like theirs.

In the ensuing years, my Chacos took a back seat to cuter wedges, strappy things, and professional looking pumps as I shed my college t-shirt-and-shorts look for a career wardrobe. But I still kept them. And I’d bring them out every summer.

Then when I moved to running my photography business full-time, those polished pumps got shoved to the back of my closet…and out came my beloved Chacos. Though never really fashionable or flattering, they are still hands down the most comfortable pair of footwear I own. They don’t win me any points for cuteness, and the perpetual line of dust and dirt around the edges hardly invokes the term “pretty,” but I can’t bear to part with them. They’re like an old friend whom you don’t need to explain what you’re thinking to. They just understand. I don’t have to worry about getting blisters or rubbing my heel raw in my Chacos, unlike many other unfortunate pairs of shoes.

So they’re still my favorite shoes to photograph in–I can wade in streams, climb up old concrete slabs, and walk through fields and sidewalks with no worry of ruining my shoes. Unfortunately, they just don’t look appropriate for wedding days. So I leave them at home and don something a little cuter, albeit less comfortable.

But don’t be surprised if I show up to your engagement session wearing my old, trusty Chacos. I promise I won’t make you smell them.

You can see I underpronate when I walk.