Posts Tagged ‘foot fetish’

Pink Toenails, my feet and toes after I painted my toenails a frosty pink, Denver, March 2009, photo © 2009 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

Toes and feet are odd things. Some people adorn them; others adore them.

Sometimes we joke about them. Did you hear about the guy who was born with two left feet? He went out the other day to buy himself some flip flips.

We rhapsodize about them. The human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art. (Leonardo da Vinci)

We wiggle them and dance with them. Sometimes we’d rather not think about them. They literally carry all our weight.

Footprint by Mark A. Hicks, © 1998 Mark A. Hicks, clip art licensed from the Clip Art Gallery on DiscoverySchool.com (with permission from the Discovery School website) Footprint by Mark A. Hicks, © 1998 Mark A. Hicks, clip art licensed from the Clip Art Gallery on DiscoverySchool.com (with permission from the Discovery School website)

My dad has narrow feet and Mom’s are fat with short round toes. We women in the family paint our toenails and sometimes treat ourselves to pedicures. (I like doing my own. One month I’ll go midnight blue, another month frosty rose. Toenails are the body’s canvas, a place to capture a mood, be rebellious. My version of a tattoo.)

I get cold feet in winter and go barefoot around the house all year long. The heels of my feet are in need of help, which I’ll tend to once sandal-wearing season is fully upon us.

What about you? Do you take care of your feet or do you neglect them? Have you ever been caught flat-footed?

Do you tap your feet?

Have you ever fallen down and got back on your feet again? 

Do you toe the line or go toe-to-toe? And if given a choice, what color would you paint your toenails?

These and many more questions are yours to answer if you step up to the plate and do a Writing Practice on the topic of Feet & Toes. Write these words at the top of your page: Everything I know about feet and toes… and start writing. Fifteen minutes, no crossing out, no stopping to think. Just write.

Put your best foot forward. We won’t hold your feet to the fire, and we won’t hang you by the toenails if you don’t do it. But go ahead and get your feet wet. Take a walk on the wild side. One foot in front of the other. A step in the right direction. Foot loose and fancy free.

Shake a leg. Break a leg.

Now step on it. Go.

my left foot, March 2009, photo © 2009 by ybonesy, all rights reserved  my left foot, March 2009, photo © 2009 by ybonesy, all rights reserved  my left foot, March 2009, photo © 2009 by ybonesy, all rights reserved

Something’s afoot…

  • The foot is split into three main areas: the forefoot, the mid foot and the hind foot.
  • The foot contains over 100 muscles, ligaments, and tendons, 26 bones (14 in the toes alone!) and around 33 joints.
  • A pair of feet contains about a quarter of a million sweat glands, which explains foot odor.
  • On average, humans will take enough steps in their lifetime to walk around the globe four times. Each day the average person will take 10,000 steps.
  • When we run, the pressure exerted on our feet can exceed four times our body weight.
  • Feet change in shape and size during our lifetimes. Feet can grow up to one size as people age and the structures within the foot relax and spread.
  • Purchase new shoes in the afternoon, when feet are at their biggest.
  • The largest feet in the world belong to a Mr. Matthew McGrory, whose feet are size 28½ (US). The 7ft-4in Florida resident has to fork out $22,745 for a pair of shoes to fit his feet.
  • The Achilles tendon, located in the heel of the foot, was named after one of the most famous mythical characters from Ovid’s Illiad. In an attempt to immortalize her son, Thetis (Achilles’ Mother) dipped Achilles into the River Styx, holding him by his ankle. His ankle became the only part of his body capable of sustaining a mortal wound. This is why the strongest tendon in the foot got the name of Achilles tendon.
  • In China during the early tenth century, foot binding was seen as a sign of beauty and was practiced by all social classes. At about age five and onward, girls’ toes were tightly wrapped in cloth, breaking the bones and curling the foot under. After a number of years, the front and back of the foot would be forced together to give the impression of small dainty feet. Prospective mothers-in-law would inspect the feet to see whether a girl was suitable to marry her son.

Feet on red Ravine

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My Right Foot, pen and ink drawing © 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

A few years back I found myself in San Jose, Costa Rica, in early June with my friend and colleague Gail. We decided to celebrate our birthdays our last evening there — we’re both Geminis — by getting full-body massages before dinner.

That day our Costa Rican hosts took us sightseeing. We hiked a muddy trail to a hidden lake, went to a butterfly preserve, and visited a coffee plantation. We ate lunch at a roadside restaurant overlooking a forest canopy, monkeys crying in the distance. We ended the day with another hike, to the rim of a volcano.

Our hosts dropped us off at the hotel five minutes before our scheduled massages. We ran to our rooms, threw down our bags, ran to the outdoor cabana where the massage therapists waited.

We were in separate yet adjacent rooms. I got the male massage therapist; Gail got the female. My massage was not as strong — the masseuse’s touch not as hard — as I normally liked, but it was relaxing given the excitement of the day. Mostly it ended sooner than I expected.

I dressed quickly then waited for Gail in the quiet reception area. The place smelled of pine. We were the last clients of the night.

Gail didn’t emerge, and I waited. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. I wondered what was taking so long.

Finally, Gail floated into the semi-darkness, therapist trailing. She rustled through her purse, pulled out a $20 bill and handed it to the woman, all the time effusively praising the massage. We headed slowly in the direction of the patio restaurant.

Gail talked in dreamy tones about what an excellent massage she had. She asked me about mine. I told her it was fine but nothing like hers, from the sound of it.

We found a table, sat, ordered fruity drinks. Gail’s was called “Sex on the Beach.” We laughed when she asked the waiter for it. I had a mojito.

I told Gail I didn’t understand why my massage ended before hers being as we started at the same time. I told her my therapist seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time washing his hands and arms when he was done.

At that moment, I kicked off my sandal and crossed my right calf over my left thigh. I crossed with knees apart, the way men do. Gail and I both looked down at my bare foot. The mud I’d picked up from a day of walking had ground into my sole. It was black, black.

We burst into laughter. We could hardly breathe, we laughed so hard. No wonder my massage therapist was in a hurry to get rid of me. My other foot was just as bad.

Feet are one of the most sensitive parts of the body. Each foot holds over 7,000 nerves, and my feet, especially, hold the weight of my demanding days. When I travel I often indulge in a massage — sometimes just a foot massage. But ever since that Costa Rica experience, I always make sure to wash my feet first.

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