Your days are probably very different at the moment. Mine certainly. I take a shower during my lunch break, write stories from the backyard, bake bread between phone calls, and spend my weekends under my car to methodically sniff out all the little noises that I have silenced. I'm not even wearing real pants right now.
But yes, I wear slippers.
Nevertheless, it can be reducing to call them “slippers”. Sneakers? Camp shoes? Sleeping bags for your feet? All fair game, but unlike my jeans that never go on, my Teva Ember Mocs never come out.
When I wake up, I slide each foot into its insulated moc, where a knitted collar gently secures everyone in place. From there, the slippers transport me comfortably from sitting at my desk to sitting at my bed, sitting on the couch and even sitting at the dining table. A microfiber lining means they are soft with or without socks. And it is crucial that an antimicrobial treatment – no matter how little I shower and how often I wear it – the Mocs do not yet have to perceive a stench.
With an EVA foam midsole and a robust rubber outsole, the Ember Mocs skilfully span the line between comfort inside and outside. They provide enough support and traction for adventures close to home like mowing the lawn, dragging trash cans to the street, working in my garage and even going to the grocery store. I just fold up the foldable heel and the mocs are primed and ready and fit as well as everyday shoes.
Although dress codes now feel like past constructions, wearing my mocs at Swiss Post also seems to be a socially acceptable practice. The quilted seams and the rubber buffer around the front half of the shoes are enough to be used as everyday shoes. (Yes, I wipe it clean before I enter my house again.)
Of course, this was not my intended purpose for the Ember Mocs. After spying on them massively in trailhead parking lots, climbing cliffs and hikers' huts last year, I took a pair of camp shoes that I thought were strictly wildlife-related and took part in the fanfare. (No, Teva doesn't pay me to write this, although I wouldn't mind delivering Mocs all the time.)
In the brief off-grid effort my Mocs saw before their unexpectedly perfect transition to slippers, they were all I wanted to burn the gap between pulling my toes out of the sleeping bag and waiting for the morning cold. They stood on gravel campsites and were still easy to get dressed for a nightly toilet break. And with just a hair over a pound for a couple, they became my favorite shoe for backpacking and winter hut trips.
But at the moment, this versatile slipper sneaker camp shoe sleeping bag is possibly the best fashion statement for social isolation. And if we get the green light to go further away from home, you can bet that my Ember Mocs won't leave my feet, even if my normal pants have to be put on again.
Gear I Hold Dear: The Teva Ember Moc first appeared in the REI Co-op Journal.