My boyfriend and I once enjoyed a healthy relationship. Our apartment was tidy and we shared the responsibility for keeping it clean; we loved cooking together and hanging out at home, as well as doing our own thing; we enjoyed a robust and adventurous sex life, and we enjoyed it often.
Lately, though, some things have been bothering me. The constant new-shoe smell in our apartment, the increasing number of streetwear groups my boyfriend is joining online, and the way he licks his recently purchased sneakers, insisting that he’s testing for authenticity: is he a sneakerhead? Or could he just be a garden variety foot worshipper?
Now, I understand foot fetishism. It’s pretty standard. Apparently it’s the most common body part to have a fetish for. But this? This is something I don’t know how to deal with. When we have sex, he asks me to wear a particular pair of shoes, like the 2017 Adidas x Daniel Arsham New York Present sneakers, and nothing else. I’m happy to do this, because I love him and want to make him happy, but it’s really hard to feel aroused when every second thrust is accompanied by him yelling “Don’t scuff them!”
Recently we were having what I hoped would be a romantic dinner, followed by a walk along the bay. Instead of appreciating how nice I looked or how lovely the evening was, though, all he did was stare at the “fresh CDG x Nike kicks” on the feet of a girl at another table.
I’m at a loss. We no longer go out dancing because he refuses to bend his toes while wearing his shoes. Our fridge is empty and our rent is unpaid because he dropped $3450 on a resold pair of Adidas Futurecraft 4Ds. I long for the days of being asked for footjobs; now there is only Yeezys.