RIP Beloved Sandals

I'm a function over form kinda guy. Particularly when it comes to clothing. Does it fit? Is it comfortable? Is there more fabric than holes? If I can answer yes to those three questions, I'm wearing it. I'm known for my ancient and occasionally ratty clothing - old patched combat pants, frayed hoodies, constructions boots with more steel than leather showing. My old cycling jacket, faded on the back from a prairie crossing trip, road rashed, elastic stretched, is still going strong as it enters its teenage years. My favourite 1982 army surplus shorts, patched more than fabric, had to be retired a few years ago.

Sadly, I must announce that my sandals have bit the bullet after a decade of hard use. Got them for the summer trip to PEI back in 1999. They've seen a lot of hard use. Uncountable hours of hacky sack, spattered by many colours of theatrical paint, chewed by a very naughty puppy, soles worn almost smooth, elastic ties long gone, they've been cut, torn, and burned by acid. The end came a few weeks back when Mars stepped on the side of them while we were playing around and the upper tore right out of the rubber sole. My sandal started flapping around my ankle. Irrepairable. Sigh. Of course I'll never find another pair like them. Naturally I tried, but the woman at the store laughed at me. Even with a product number & the catepillar catalogue it was no good. Out of style. Probably stopped being made the year after I bought them. I may find a substandard physical replacement next summer, but after so many memories I'll have an empty spot in my heart. Goodbye, noble sandals!