I would rather not put gloves on my feet | Steve Canavan

I met an interesting man in the work kitchen the other day. This doesn’t happen often, for I work in higher education and most folk I meet in the kitchen wear brown blazers with leather elbow patches and don’t like to make eye contact or give off even the merest hint of friendliness.
Steve Canavan would rather wear trainers than goalie gloves on his feet. Pic: ShutterstockSteve Canavan would rather wear trainers than goalie gloves on his feet. Pic: Shutterstock
Steve Canavan would rather wear trainers than goalie gloves on his feet. Pic: Shutterstock

In short, most of my work colleagues are not too exciting.

Imagine my delight then when a youngish man I’d never seen before, with a neat goatee beard in fashion circa 1985 and sporting a pair of small round glasses the type of which Gandhi would have been proud, entered the kitchen wearing on his feet what appeared to be goalkeeping gloves.

They were made of a kind of netted material, were a garish green and white, and instead of a rounded shape at the end – like most conventional shoes – there were instead five toe-like bits, presumably where his toes went.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

I noticed them immediately – it was hard not to – because as he entered the room I was bending down to fill my water bottle from the little fancy filter machine we have. His feet were therefore the first thing I saw and I couldn’t help but utter ‘ooh, that’s interesting footwear’.

I could tell straight away I’d made a mistake because he was clearly delighted I’d made reference to them. ‘These?’ he said nonchalantly, looking down as if he himself were viewing them for the first time.

He nodded his head and smiled, as if to say ‘yeah I get asked about these shoes A LOT’, and then – very earnestly, like he were discussing the cellular make-up of the human heart – began to tell me in great detail why he wore these shoes.

To cut a long story short, he had been doing a study into the body when he came to the conclusion that a shoe and a foot are not compatible.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

‘I mean look at it,’ he said gesticulating in the direction of my trainer and shaking his head, ‘does that look like a foot?’

I looked at my trainer, which, to me, actually did look quite a bit like a foot – on the account of it being the same shape and all – apart from the lack of five toes, obviously.

But I thought it best not to disagree. ‘So why are you wearing them?’ he barked.

‘I’m not sure,’ I dithered. ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘I don’t understand why more of us aren’t wearing shoes like these.’

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

He was basically wearing a pair of gloves on his feet and I had to suppress a strong urge to tell him the reason more of us aren’t wearing them is because they look ridiculous.

He talked about his shoes for about 10 more minutes, which was frustrating as I’d just heated up some leftover spag bol in the microwave and was desperate to eat it before it went cold.

However, the conversation did make me think – I’d never before considered my shoes and questioned their design. Every shoe or trainer I’ve ever worn has pretty much looked the same.

My work colleague told me the main reason he wore them was for the health benefits, less stress on the toe joints and overall less wear and tear on the foot.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Naturally I Googled them and it’s true, these weird-looking shoes are known as FiveFingers and are produced by a company called Vibram. The pair I looked at cost $120.

I then read a little more and, with the words of my colleague still fresh in my mind discovered Vibram had, in 2012, been sued for claims that their shoes ‘reduce foot injuries and strengthen foot muscles’. While the company ‘expressly denied any wrongdoing’ and didn’t accept liability, they agreed to a $3.75m settlement and paid refunds of up to $50 to anyone who had purchased the product since 2009.

I printed the article off, stuck it on my colleague’s door, and ran away. I look forward to our next kitchen meeting, though I must remember to eat my spaghetti bolognese before we start talking.