I would like to address a gender inequality that has vexed me greatly the past two weeks. Both Tropical Storm Isaac and the general rainy nature of Florida have characterized the beginning of classes by a stoic low-energy conflict with nature.
Whether it is the inconsistent drizzling, the torrential downpours or, worst of all, the tangible humidity waiting for the bus at 3 p.m., the weather has not reflected or encouraged positive attitudes throughout the day.
This depression, however, is less draining when the proper precautions are taken. Every student knows to bring an umbrella regardless of the chance of precipitation — likewise with raincoats.
Rain boots are an entirely different matter.
Daily, and without fail, I will step in a puddle. Given the high volume of rain recently, these puddles are usually grown from the whimsical 1-inch deep puddles trampled gleefully in RomComs, to the far more insidious 3-to 4-inch puddles that penetrate shoes and soak socks. The instant this happens, and later in the day when I remove my shoes to reveal my pruned and misshapen feet, I think to myself “This would not have happened if I were wearing rain boots.”
Unfortunately for me and my feet, it would be impossible for me to wear rain boots because, as a guy, it is not in the sphere of acceptable clothing options.
Girls wear rain boots with shorts, and it’s cute.
For guys, unless you’re a construction worker in a Dodge Ram commercial, a butcher or a supervillain, rubber boots are just not acceptable.
And don’t get me wrong: I agree that the mental image of me wearing cargo shorts and rubber boots is an absurd one.
I’m not saying it wouldn’t look weird, but so did fitted jeans at one point. Most clothing developments had a starting point embroiled in generational conflict, but something worthy was often on the line. The T-shirt, for example, would not exist as it does today without Marlon Brando shamelessly and controversially sporting an undershirt as an overshirt in “A Streetcar Named Desire.”
Short shorts used to be widely accepted as menswear in the 80s, and now, despite continued scorching summer heat, I would cause some double-takes wearing mid-thigh-length hot pink shorts.
Women, on the other hand, can wear shorts of any length. Again, showing off my pale, hairy thighs is not my burning desire, but I would appreciate the freedom to do so.
While the transition might be uncomfortable, we must ask ourselves: At what cost is equality too expensive?
Who will be the first to brave the slings and arrows of conventional society to achieve a brighter future for the feet of men everywhere?
Nate Rushing is a history senior at UF.
