Morning walks. They get you energized, set a tone for the day, and allow for a prolonged, acceptable and excusable pursuit of people watching. Such is the benefit of sporting comfortable flats (ahem, CitySlips) on your morning schlep to work. Perch some super dark shades on your prim nose and your eyes will be free to inspect and survey without sending rude, snobby chick vibes. Just make sure to keep the head turned forward; a slight twist of the neck and your cover is blown.
Under the pretense of these soothing soles your toes will be amenable to such a morning commute; your sassy summer frock catching the wind in your stride, this commute becomes more of a communing time. I’m channeling a barefoot Pocahontas here: a natural beauty, pitter pattering down the street to Colors of the Wind, loving her world, her life, and her lyrical outburst. Passing each well-dressed, morning-fresh businessman, quickly scanning over his left hand, and entertaining the idea of a John Smith type relation becomes an addictive game on this path. Though, if you’re of the married or committed variety, we can revert to the previous notion of simply people-watching. Why not indulge in catty observation or make some fashion notes? Or, simply glance down at the adorable little girl in her stroller, rocking her Pebbles-like hairdo and mini cat-eye sunglasses.
Unfortunately, the fear of bothered, blistered commuter feet so often eclipses the possibility of this morning enjoyment such that the walk is avoided all together. This time—which is particularly divine in the summertime—to commune with your fashionable little self, buzzing thoughts, fellow walkers, and the welcomed sunshine must not be sacrificed. Whether you’re bounding down Broadway or up Park Ave, embrace the commute. Love the commute. And just, commune.