Dear Hawaiian Shoes... | The Odyssey Online
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Dear Hawaiian Shoes...

A letter to the MVP of your shoe collection.

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Dear Hawaiian Shoes...

Hello, my dear little plastic life savers. It's me again, your proud and forever grateful owner, a simple, southern sorority girl who can't be bothered to wear a shoe with straps or laces.

Do you know how much I love you? How much I enjoy spending my day with you? Have I ever described to you the utter happiness I feel when I slide you onto my feet right before class, contemplating the many adventures we are sure to face that day? You've always been there for me ever since I succumbed to peer pressure and ordered you from Alohaz.com. You were there for me that first week of freshman year when I forgot to bring shower shoes, you were there for me for countless all-nighters and late night trips to Waffle House, and all of the times I had to pick up my sisters from insensitively themed parties. You give off the perfect effortless vibe I need to offset my totally insane and controlling demeanor. You make me seem way more normal and approachable than I actually am, and sometimes I even feel kind of free spirited and down-to-earth when I wear you, which is hard for someone who wears so much bronzer.

I'm totally sorry about that time my roommate's stupid boyfriend said you looked like the shoes they made him wear in prison. I hope that didn't hurt your feelings. But you know what they say about mean comments, you have to consider the source. I'm also sorry about the time I accidentally spilled paint on you at one of those glowing-foam-paint-rave parties and it never came off, but I firmly believe that true beauty can only rise from imperfections, and you are all the more beautiful with little neon green flecks. That also helps me discern which pair is mine after I leave you in a pile of other Hawaiian shoes whenever I enter my sorority house in search of pizza rolls and hot gossip.

I promise to love you until the end of time, or until your rubbery frame can no longer support me, and I am forced to commend your spirit to Valhalla in a fiery Viking send off usually reserved for kings and warriors, because you deserve it.

Yours truly,

A sorority girl

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