About a year and a half ago, Jeremy and I began ripping out all the funky, crusty, stinky carpet in our 55-year-old home and replacing it with Pergo. I have no idea what kind of things transpired in this house before my husband and I met, as he was living here with a rotating menagerie of bachelor roommates. However, after seeing what a couple of years of Animal House type living did to what was once probably a lovely tan colored wall to wall carpet, I’m pretty sure it involved beer, vomit, and perhaps black magic. These carpets may have contained both the cure for cancer and the cause of it.
I briefly considered sending samples of the stuff we ripped up to the United States Department of Health and Human Services so that a team of Bacteriologists could spend several months analyzing all the creepy things living inside of it, but I was afraid I’d be promptly arrested for bioterrorism. It was that bad.
Getting hosed down after coming into contact with a swatch of our old carpet.
I love our new floors, but I have to tell you that in the winter those suckers become cold as balls. Our house has no basement- just a concrete slab under the floorboards. I’d wake up for work some mornings at six a.m. snug as a bug under our comforter and blankets, but by the time I’d made the short trip from our bedroom to the shower the bottoms of my feet were in danger of developing frostbite. I’m not normally a fan of slippers, but I’m also not a fan of having feet like someone from the Franklin expedition, so I picked up a pair of cute monkey slippers from Target. Maybe slippers weren’t intended to be adorable, but these were. They had buttons for eyes and little monkey lips!
Unfortunately, like most material objects that I’m fond of, our puppy Winston decided that he must destroy the monkeys. Within days they were blind and Winston was pooping out buttons. A few weeks later they were so chewed and slobbery that I didn’t want to wear them. When something is so revolting that you don’t even want it on your feet- basically the most disgusting external part of your body – you know that’s not a good sign.
Jeremy suggested that my next pair of slippers be something ASOTV so that I could review it for the site, and when he brought home the Memory Foam Elite Slippers I agreed to give them a whirl, despite the fact that he apparently thinks I am a giantess because he bought them in size 11-13.
Right off the bat, I have to mention that these slippers are FUGLY. They look orthopedic, like something that a lunch lady with hairy corns would wear in the back of the cafeteria while she’s on a break. I mean, I know they’re indoor shoes and no one will judge me if I wear old people slippers in my own home, but they’re just so hideous that it really took some time to warm up to these clodhoppers.
Beyond that though, I just don’t think they’re particularly *enjoyable* to wear. Maybe I’m overly tactile, but they just feel weird.The soles are very thick and clunky, so as I’m walking through the house and my feet are sinking into the memory foam, the slippers themselves are just s0rt of stomping around like a pair of construction boots. They’re also kind of overly-warm, which I understand is the purpose of slippers, but wearing these things feels like you’ve just stuck your foot into a burrito – and that’s not as pleasant as you may think.
I also have a problem with any product that attempts to take something mundane and commonplace and make it seem awesome by peppering its description with anything “space age.” Seriously? Space age slippers? Comfort Pedic’s packaging tells me that memory foam was developed by NASA, which apparently makes these slippers more desirable. That may be true, but NASA invented a lot of crap that really has no business on my feet, so that doesn’t impress me. Until my slippers can also clean my house, beam me to work, and then do my job for me all day so I can watch soap operas and eat Ben and Jerry’s, their technology means nothing to me.
All in all, I wouldn’t get too excited about these slippers. They don’t do anything that a good pair of socks can’t do- or a slightly abused pair of blind monkey slippers riddled with dog saliva.
Where to Buy: Memory Foam Slippers at Asseenontvandmore.com
Price: $14.99 + S & H
Was your carpet really *that* bad?: Homeless people who live under bridges and wear newspaper underwear wouldn’t have slept on it out of fear they’d catch something. So… yeah.