Someone was paid to write about what a big asshole they can be to other people in a time when a little tenderness might be nice. On Thursday, Wall Street Journal deputy section editor Kris Frieswick published “Here’s Why I’ll Be Keeping My Shoes on in Your Shoeless Home.” No one asked for this take detailing her rude actions, but some people—like Frieswick and Kevin Durant—are posters. Posters cannot help but post!
The thesis of Frieswick’s bad blog seems to be: I am annoyed that people just expect me to remove my shoes when entering their home instead of detailing the exact reasons why they want me to remove my shoes. “Instead, shoeless-home owners prefer to do the easy thing, and point at my shoes and deliver the unspoken message, ‘Kris, welcome to our home, where your filth is filthier than the filth we already have all over our floors.’”
I think Frieswick should have stopped writing before opening the CMS, but there’s an obvious stopping point in the third paragraph.
She writes:
Now, I’m not a barbarian. If I am entering the home of someone from a culture in which wearing street shoes inside is a sign of disrespect, or if my shoes are covered in snow, mud, blood, condiments of any sort, lava, excrement, concrete dust, or biomedical hazardous waste, I’m of course going to take them off. And I don’t really need to be told to do so.
This paragraph feels analogous to saying “I’m not racist but…” with the lip service to cultures that prefer outdoor shoes aren’t worn indoors, such as many parts of the Asian diaspora or New Englanders who don’t want Mud Season to make it indoors. It’s a sign of respect of someone else’s house to follow their rules. Especially when—and I can’t believe I’m emphasizing this—leaving your shoes on is rude.
Your hosts don’t need to discuss the particulars as to why they’d like you to remove your gross shoes when entering their home. It’s just something we do because we live in a society. So much of the social contract has broken down in the pandemic years as masks turned into a political flashpoint. The absolute bare minimum we can do as we enter each other’s abodes is to attempt to help them keep house.
Kris, I hope the people you’re visiting are kind enough to offer you that stool or chair as you struggle to remove your shoes due to previous injuries you write about. And if they’re not, why the hell are you going?
Regardless, I hope they see through your sheer plea to keep your shoes on due to your Wolfords. Sweetie, real ones know those tights last forever. Now that you’re here: Take your fucking shoes off.
