I walk right through those security checkpoints at the airport and the metal detectors never go off. Why? Well, there are two reasons. First, I rarely walk around airports with semiautomatics strapped to my thigh with duct tape. Secondly, I wear a lot less jewelry than Mr. T wore back in the ‘80’s.
I have a watch I put on if I can remember in the morning where I put it the night before. I’ve never worn necklaces and if you ask me, earrings are only for woman and pirates and since I don’t consider George Clooney “The Sexiest Man Alive” and I have no treasure buried on some island in the Caribbean, I’m not going to start wearing earrings anytime soon.
But let me tell you, there are plenty of men and women out there who keep QVC on the air by purchasing plenty of jewelry and finding plenty of new body parts on which to wear it.
From earrings in the nose, eyebrow, tongue and navel to watches around the ankle and necklaces around the waist, I thought I had seen it all. And then the other day I was sitting in a restaurant when I noticed something shiny on the foot of a woman who was wearing sandals at a nearby table. No, she hadn’t dropped a piece of pasta on her foot. Upon closer observation, I saw that the shiny object was a gold ring the woman was wearing on, of all places, the big toe of her sandaled foot. What was that all about? All I could think was: ‘Doggone, that must hurt.’
I’m the first to admit that I have wimpy, sissy feet. My doctor knows to leave my feet alone due to their sensitive nature. Back in the day, while the other kids were impressively running barefoot over gravel and fallen holly leaves, I walked sure-footed in size 13 steel-tipped Redwing work boots with added inserts and two pairs of tube socks. No sharp stone or hot pavement was going to come in contact with my tender puppies.
And here, at the table next to me was this woman who was wearing a ring on her big toe. Even Sweet Gypsy Rose in the Tony Orlando and Dawn’s song wore “rings on her fingers and BELLS on her toes,” not rings on her finger AND toes. What would happen if this flip-flopped fraulein walked through the security check point at the airport and the buzzer went off? Would she have to take the toe ring off and hand it to the security check point person and then pass through? Gross. I’m sure the TSA person would really appreciate that.
When I’m working in the yard, a small shard of shale rock or a bit of pine mulch might inadvertently fly into my shoe. As soon as I feel it scratching my ankle or poking the side of my foot, I immediately remove my shoe and remove the annoying unwanted guest. Just think about these ring-wearing ladies. They ALWAYS have something in their shoe. How comfortable is that?
What’s next? When a gentleman proposes, will he have to remove his girlfriend’s Nine West pump to place the ring on her “finger”? Will newlyweds have to stand on their hands at the altar with their shoes off to exchange vows and rings? I sure hope a lot of Scholl’s foot powder is being sold if all these ladies are removing their shoes at jewelry stores to have their rings sized.
Boy, I must have pulled a Rip Van Winkle and fell asleep when all those fashion magazines decided that decorating your feet was the next big fashion trend. Seems to me women are trying to bring added attention to their feet these days. When my daughters used to have one of their “Let’s-pop-popcorn-and-watch ‘Survivor’-and-paint-our-toenails” parties, I never got the urge to join in. I’ll paint a room or the trim on the house or the town red, but I’d have to be anesthetized before I allow somebody to trim and paint my toenails.
And black seems to be the new red these days. Everywhere you look Gothic Black seems the preferred choice for women’s nails. But shouldn’t makeup and cosmetic enhancements appear natural? If so, what is so natural about black toenails? The only time I’ve ever seen naturally black nails was last year when I dropped a cinder block on my foot. Naturally, it hurt. Naturally, they were black.
It’s true, the older I get, the further I fall behind on what’s hip and what’s not. But I will say one thing about these new fads: If women want men to stop staring at their body parts in public and making comments, I really doubt putting rings on their toes and painting their nails black is going to help much. Personally, I’ll keep staring and thinking to myself: “Doggone, that ring must hurt, but probably not half as bad as when that cinder block fell on her foot.”