Slippers and Somethings

Here's something that I discovered from an old Multiply blog post:

Yesterday I was at Trinoma with Ron and Harry. It was another one of the trio’s adventures in Manila—getting lost, finding something, and going home with a bag-full of new stories to tell. This time it was the quest for the perfect pair of Havaianas for Harry. As we entered All Flip-Flops Store, a crowd was already squirming its way in front of rows and rows of Brazilian slippers displayed around the store. It was a Saturday afternoon at Trinoma, one of the busiest shopping days of the week. Everyone seemed to be in a buying frenzy, grabbing the next best thing they could get their hands on, in fear of size and stock shortage. I looked down on the floor and saw that almost everyone was already wearing a pair of the coveted Havaianas--even I was wearing them too.

My battered and aged white Havaianas felt a bit insecure being amongst a hipper and younger crowd. But it clung to my feet, reassuring me, as I paced the room in search for something interesting. As Harry worriedly scoured the racks for the perfect blue pair, I found myself admiring a pair of slim chocolate brown slippers. I was in the middle of trying them on, when I heard someone from behind say, “Ayan. Ganyan mangyayari sa mga tsinelas nyo kung puti bibilhin niyo, ‘wag kayo bumili ng puti”. Upon hearing that, I froze then I felt a sudden rush of irritation come over me. What’s wrong with having a pair of worn-out slippers? How big of a deal is it when white ages and becomes off-white? Somehow my slippers felt embarrassed and out of place in a sea of fresh rubber and overtly vain consumers.

The boom of paying a hefty some for a pair of rubber slippers has gone way overboard. Ever since the start of my love affair with Havaianas and up until now, many would still say, “Sus, Havaianas.. Spartan nalang!” This is of course, an economically sound advice. What was once a unique find has turned into something that can be found in every other person’s closet. I loved my Havaianas not because it was something that made me look cool, but because during the time that I discovered it, I got hooked on how comfortable it was. Havaianas came into my life in 2004, in my first year of college.

My first pair was a gift from my best friend Monic during one of the breaks from school. I was overjoyed when she handed me the box and I swear I was jumping up and down when I opened it. They were there—my very own Havaianas! Although I loved Havaianas and how comfortable they are, I was still apprehensive about spending much on rubber slippers. But because Mon knew I loved them to pieces, she gave me a pair! I took extremely good care of them, cleaning them every after use. I was crazy in love with them! First of all, it was a gift from a dear friend and second of all, they were Havaianas.

Everything changed when an uneventful day came that a friend borrowed them and used them after soccer—soaking my WHITE slippers in mud. I was in an outrage and I frantically brushed the mud marks off. After an hour of brushing, screaming, and feeling all the worst things in the world—I faced the fact that they would never be clean again. I hated myself for allowing her to borrow my slippers and kept on cursing until I ran out of cuss words to say. All was lost; the precious pair was mud-stained.

Pair after pair, the obsession waned, and Havaianas became an ordinary part of my life. Much of the craziness was just a waste of time and good days, and I realized that though they’re dirty and worn-out, they’re still there to be worn and to make one feel comfortable.

These days, what makes the Havaianas fad disappointing is that people have made it a social status. People think that just because they have Havaianas, it makes them cool, it makes them better off than other people. I personally feel that it’s all wrong. They’re just slippers—ordinary slippers that happen to come from Brazil. Yes, they’re comfortable and durable, but it still isn’t worth all the stress and fuss. Others spend more than their means just to grab a pair. Come to think of it, a pair of Havaianas can provide slippers for five or more children who walk the streets barefoot. I have nothing against those who continue to patronize Havaianas, but the excess of something is never good. I am no hypocrite; I might still grab a pair if those I have eventually wear out. But I will choose to stick with my battered and aged white pair because it has stood the test of time. It still feels comfortable after every wear. I don’t care it it’s worn out, and that man who vehemently reacted about it being that way can buy a million pairs and still not feel the way I feel. He would never know the feeling of slipping into the pair and feeling a different kind of comfort—because whenever I wear them, I always feel Monic with me.

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Today is Monic's 25th birthday. We will never forget 2006, when just two days before her birthday, she was taken away from us by an unfortunate event. She will always be loved and missed dearly.