This shoe is so soft, it starts to look like your foot after a while.
Whether that's fugly and gross or not, I'll leave to y'all's personal speculation. As for me, I fetishize this flat. Its obvious virtues like versatility, comfort, and craftsmanship aside, the Carson ballet deserves Marin-proclaimed VIP status because, after a few months of wear, it becomes irreversibly yours, as your one-in-seven-billion set of toe marks become imprinted in what Frye calls its "buttery" leather forever.
The pliability of the shoe bugged me at first. I was like, "what, so you think now that I threw the receipt away you can just go'n morph on me?!" I almost stopped wearing them. The severely stretched out heels and swollen toes, however, (not to mention the two other pairs that I subsequently bought) attest to the fact that they continued to function as a tri-weekly staple despite their misshapenness.
I think we're often afraid to wear our clothes. Like, I've had a fit before over a stain on my T-shirt. But while it's true that many clothes and shoes look best in mint-condish, I've come to love the toe bulges in my flats, the scuffs on my wellies, the creases in my docs, provided they're not too pronounced or indicative of decay. To me, actually, they're signs of life, signs of human inhabitation. I think fashion is about where form and function meet, and what I love about this flat is that the wear from its functionality becomes an integral, unapologetic part of its form. This flat is a lovely testament to the very organic purpose of the shoe.
Lucky for you (me), they come in just about every color known to man, and in patent leather, too. Order down half a size to allow for warpage.
|I exacerbated my black pair's toe bulges by attempting to wear them with winter socks.|
|The comment I always get when wearing my coral pair: "Whoa! For a second, I thought you were barefoot!" And then me: "Ha, NOPE."|
|The sage Carson is surprisingly versatile, assuming you like sage.|
Black pair: Nordstrom, $148
Sage/Coral pairs: 6pm, $45-$70