My Dad wears wool houseshoes. It's an old habit from his years spent in Northern France. The shoes are too hot for the Mediterranean climate but my Dad doesn't care.
He is a thrifty dude too. Most of his wool shoes have holes in them but he won't buy a new pair until the old one literally falls apart.
This week, I decided to repair my dad's shoes. I started with the back seam on the left foot, then I hunted down every hole and reinforced the sides with Japanese-style stitches that matched the chevron pattern of the shoes. I finished with a little love message across the feet so my dad remembers he is loved even when I am not around to tell him every day.
I did not wash the shoes. I thought about matching the back seams but decided against it: repairing the shoes told me a lot about my dad: he favors his left foot, his toes have started to bulge a bit on the outside and his feet are slightly inclined inward. He likes to flatten his shoes into mules and spends a lot of time walking through sand.
My dad is a good guy. A man of service who always puts others ahead of himself. I miss him terribly at times.
Happy Father's Day to you, Dad. You deserve to wear whatever shoes you like