Turrible Tevas

I wore these shoes to walk to my German class today. I know, I know. They're awful. I kept catching glimpses of my feet--turned duck-billed platypus flippers--in the reflection of shop windows thinking to myself, "Why? Why?"

Well, the most obvious reason is that they are comfortable. I bought them in anticipation of a trip we were taking in May and although I've always thought the shoes were hideous I purchased them because they are supposedly some of the most supportive you can buy. I guessed I'd wear them during the trip and hide them in my closet when we returned. But when I never wore them, I started thinking about the waste of money and regretted the purchase. I thought, "I've got to wear them somewhere. Why not here?"

So, today, I figured if I have to walk 10 long blocks to class, I don't want blisters by the time I get back home, right? And why should I soak a nice pair of shoes if I got caught in a sudden rain storm? But there was something else. I wanted, in some small way, to conform to a Berlin trend: wearing whatever the hell you want without giving any thought to what Joe Public thinks.

By living here, I have in many ways dropped off the face of the earth. Chances are that the folks I walk by on the street will never see me again. I am anonymous and there is something very liberating about that. Very few people know me here so what better place than this to sacrifice style for substance. I'm basically free to do and be who I please without the fear of judgement or retribution. Well, at least without the retribution part.

Germans are, as a whole, known for being judgemental. It's a stereotypical thing to say but it's the truth. Thankfully, I live in the German city that is the least judgemental in the country, the city that prides itself on being open; and yet I feel judged daily. I feel like I have the word FOREIGNER stamped on my forehead because it seems everywhere I go I stand out. There are many reasons for this I am sure but I'm confident that one reason is that I dress like an American. Read: Khakis, flip-flops, polos, tank tops. You can spot us a mile away. In Europe, we are not an inconspicuous people and we admittedly cross-judge each other's taste in clothes. What we, as Americans find fashionably acceptable, Berliners do not, and vice versa.

On Saturday, in an effort to meet new people, I attended an international ex-pat book club for the first time. I had given some of thought to what I was going to wear. I wanted to look casual and look put together. I also wanted to look like a friendly person so I wore (you guessed it) khakis, flip-flops, and a three-quarter length sweater. But I shouldn't have bothered because I think I was the only one who had thought about it at all. I shouldn't have felt uncomfortable but I did. Right away, I felt out of place and uncertain about whether these girls would become my friends. We dressed so differently. Then on Sunday, we went to church and the moment we stepped inside I, once again, felt foreign. We were what we considered to be dressed down: Me in a black twinset sweater, button down shirt, black pants, and my (goody-goody) headband and J in a blue button down shirt and slacks. "Ooo-kay," he whispered as we entered the small auditorium, "glad I decided against that coat and tie." Yeah, we stuck out like sore thumbs. Just about everyone had on jeans and a casual shirt. Oh, well. We'll know better next time.

We're learning that Berlin is a very casual place. The less dressed you are, the more you fit in. No makeup on? Great. Forget to shave your legs and armpits all year? Perfect. Uninterested in looking like you live in the New Millennium? No problem. Not keen on wearing clothes at all? Even better.

So, that's what I was thinking when I walked out the door this morning. No one knows me here and no one will care because few people care about things like that here. You can be who you want to be. No pressure. I was simultaneously liberating myself from my conservative constructs and trying to connect with "the people," to blend in.

Well, folks, you'd think I was wearing clown shoes because if I thought I got jeers in my flip-flops it was nothing like today. I kept thinking, YOU want to judge ME for this and you don't give two nods to the mullet revolution taking hold? You're telling me that my, admittedly, hideous Tevas, are more offensive than the throngs of bra-less women blanketing the city? Would it help if I wore black socks with my sandals like you? Would ya approve of me then? Huh? Huh?

Sigh. I guess maybe I was wrong after all. Maybe even the Berliners have a Teva-shaped line drawn in the sand of fashion. Or maybe this is just another opportunity for me to let go about caring about what other people (strike strangers) think and I learn how to bend a little myself. We didn't move here to experience America culture in Germany. We moved here to experience, learn, and appreciate German culture.

Who knows? Maybe, I'll learn something from my current compatriots. Learn to be more flexible and open. Learn to be the person I want others to be--welcoming and less judgemental. I might make a friend I wouldn't have otherwise made or experience something I wouldn't have otherwise enjoyed. I must keep reminding myself that what is different isn't necessarily bad.

So, I guess I'll hold off on wearing these shoes and continue to wear what I would in the States until new inspiration strikes. After all, they are quite ugly--even without the fashionable black sport socks.