The humble slipper, as opposed to the ostentatious shoe, will perhaps never be a status symbol. Yet it’s a great leveller since everyone, rich and poor alike, needs it. Its sheer convenience makes it ideal as a walking aid, possibly more popular than the shoe.
The cynic, however, may claim that nothing is more aptly named than the slipper. You slip into it so easily and it enables you to slip equally easily on a smooth surface if you’re not careful enough!
That slippers sometimes do live up to their dubious name is undisputed. Occasionally, in unguarded moments, my own trusty pair has let me down and, what’s worse, unexpectedly. Last month, while pottering around my backyard, I suddenly found myself executing what looked like a cross between a jig and a jive before being unceremoniously grounded, luckily unhurt. I had stepped on an unseen patch of slush.
Further, experience has taught me that rubber-soled slippers, unnoticed banana skin and a smooth-surfaced pavement are a risky combination for those in a hurry. One can end up “skating” involuntarily (and ungracefully) before coming a cropper. The same applies to many of our public conveniences where the damp, tiled floors are as treacherous as a skating-rink. Indeed, given the urgency with which people barge into a comfort station, it’s surprising that more unwary users aren’t literally floored.
While the slipper may be a lowly accessory that we look down upon for no other reason than its location, it’s sometimes put to innovative though unlawful use. As a missile in the hands of a disgruntled agitator, it’s on a par with the hurled shoe in terms of discourtesy.
I sometimes put my slippers to unconventional use — to clobber a cornered cockroach or pesky bluebottle despite my wife’s objections to the resultant mess. And once, lacking a better missile, I hurled a slipper at a fleeing mouse, hoping to “run it out”. Sadly, my accuracy isn’t what it used to be in my cricketing days.
Dogs, of course, are known to “liberate” slippers from their life-partners by “lifting” those left unguarded. Once slippers and dogs figured hilariously at a wedding reception I attended. Raising a toast to the newly weds, the exuberant MC quipped, “Peter, you’ll know the honeymoon’s over when one fine morning, in a dramatic reversal of roles, the dog brings your slippers and Susan barks at you!”
And, oddly enough, the ultimate compliment paid to slippers came from a marriage counsellor who quipped, “Perfect couples are found only in slippers, shoes and gloves!”
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