Vending machines are generally bad ideas. Nothing good can come out of them. They’re full of fattening, sugary snacks that go right to your ass, coffee that tastes like pissed on dirt, cigarettes, and shoes.
|This girl is about to ruin that dress.|
What the hell kind of shoes come out of a vending machine? Canned flats. Canned. Like fruit or vegetables. As in grocery. They’re described as “ballet flats” and are sold for $19.95/pair...in a can.
The machines are made by British company Rollasole and have been brought to the U.S. by Ashley Ross and Lindsay Klimitz. Props to the ladies for their entrepreneurial spirit, but dear god, we couldn’t have just left this on the other side of the ocean?
So when you’re out clubbing in LA or Las Vegas and your feet are screaming you can slip a $20 into a vending machine and get some slipper-looking canned flats.
Of course this doesn’t solve the problem of what to do with the heels you’ve just abandoned, what if the flats don’t match your outfit or if you suddenly resemble an Oompa Loompa with your pants dragging on the ground. At least your feet don’t hurt. Congratulations. You’ve just lost $20 and a little bit of your dignity (and my respect for what that’s worth).
Granted, canned shoes are better than taking off your shoes in a club and traipsing around in bare feet, splashing your toes in someone’s sloshed martini, but not a lot. Plus those girls usually get thrown out, so I don’t worry too much about them.
|Yes, I spend entire nights in these.|
How about instead of wasting money on silly bullshit like canned shoes and complaining about hurting feet, you (wo)man up and pick a pair of shoes that you know will get you through dinner and drinks. If your feet hurt while sitting it means that your shoes are too small or cheap, and I have no sympathy for either mistake. If they’re killing you because you’ve been walking in 6 inch heels for three hours, have a cocktail with your $20 to numb the pain and find someplace to park it for a while.
Ross and Kilmitz also coughed up some bullshit about the streets in LA being crappy and hard to walk on in heels. While I haven’t been to LA, I have no doubt of that. I have, on the other hand, walked miles of Las Vegas in three inch platforms, and have traversed the streets of Chicago in heels through rain, snow, and potholes that can swallow a house. Granted, this has not always been successful, but at least you have a good story when you take a header onto the sidewalk in front of Beauty Bar in six inch stilettos and your Gaultier outfit (true story).
So suck it up ladies. Shun the canned shoes, slide your literally bloody feet back into those heels and prance around like you own the place. Or you can just go home.