By Lauren Lipton
1,304 words
10 January 2003
The Wall Street Journal
W1
English
(Copyright (c) 2003, Dow Jones & Company, Inc.)

MARLEY MAJCHER has been to a lot of interesting dinner parties. But even she
was caught by surprise when a host greeted her and her husband at the door
-- with a basket of slippers.

"What if I hadn't gotten a pedicure?" the 33-year-old from Pasadena, Calif.,
remembers thinking when her friend asked her to remove her shoes before
coming in. Her second thought: "What do Marc's socks look like?"

Nice to see you -- now give us your shoes. In the latest battle of wills
between hosts and guests, some homeowners are confiscating visitors'
footwear at the door. While no one keeps statistics on shoe-free homes,
retailers have certainly noticed: Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn and Smith &
Hawken have introduced shoe-storage benches designed for the entryway, while
sales of those disposable booties surgeons wear are also up -- to
homeowners. And in a first, the next edition of Emily Post's Etiquette will
address the propriety of asking guests to air out their feet.

Proponents say the shoes-off rule is comfier, not to mention more sanitary
and easier on the floors. And it's only getting more prevalent as Americans
buy new homes -- with new carpets -- in record numbers. But the shoes-on
camp is gearing up for a fight. Going barefoot, they argue, is chilly,
hazardous (watch out for that table leg!) and potentially embarrassing. "Why
not ask me to remove my bra and pantyhose?" says Alexa Gallagher, an ad
saleswoman who spends shoes-off gatherings outside, smoking, with other
dissenters.

Kimberly Swanson says it blew her party outfit -- on Halloween. The Boulder,
Colo., teacher was dressed as a pregnant scuba diver when her hostess asked
her to take off her swim fins. "It wasn't funny anymore," says Ms. Swanson.
(Hostess Ekaterina Kenney's take: "Once we were all boogieing, I don't think
anyone cared about their costumes.")

When did hosts start getting hung up about the state of visitors' soles?
Even a few years ago, most people wouldn't have dreamed of asking guests to
remove anything more intimate than their coats. But the shoe-free say
exposure to other cultural customs -- through travel or, for many, marriage
-- convinced them to adopt the practice. Then there's the growing concern
about tracking in mysterious stuff like garden pesticides or lead-paint
dust. Even the government's Healthy Homes program recommends removing
outdoor footwear inside.

The stocking-feet phenomenon has worked its way to the fanciest parties. In
Denver, one fund-raising group has been hosting an annual black-tie
"Barefoot Ball" since 2000. And when Washington philanthropist Jaci Wilson
Reid threw a barefoot cocktail benefit at her home in East Hampton, N.Y.,
last summer, at least half of her guests reportedly shed their stilettos.
(It was an unexpected icebreaker, says guest Dini von Mueffling. "We were
all looking at each other's feet, pointing out defects.")

But the biggest motivation of all may be far less high-minded: Many
homeowners just want to keep the rug clean. Americans are buying new homes
in record numbers -- more than a million projected for 2002 alone. The year
before, they spent $46.5 billion on flooring, says the World Floor Covering
Association, up 19% in three years. The most popular carpet color? Beige.

Retailers have rushed in to the rescue, selling quick fixes like chic straw
slippers ($10 at Gaiam.com) and muddy-boot trays ($29 at Martha Stewart).
It's good business for sign makers: Oregon's Northwest Stone Wise, which
supplies engraved rocks to 150 gift and garden stores, says its "Kindly
Remove Your Shoes" rock is No. 1 out of its 400-plus stock slogans. At $52,
it outpaces "Welcome to My Home" 10 to 1.

Other outfits have cashed in unintentionally, like California furniture
maker Berkeley Mills, which says its $3,450 blanket chests are now being
used to hold guests' shoes. Courtesy Service Products, meanwhile, markets
its shoe covers to real-estate agents and repairmen, but makes nearly all of
its Internet sales to homeowners -- about 20% of whom pass them out to
guests. "I'm totally amazed," says president Martin Held, who recently
supplied 150 pairs of turquoise booties for a Minnesota housewarming.

Of course, Illinois oncologist Steve Cullinan remembers his first and last
bootie party, a big affair in which the host, another doctor, had his young
sons distribute surgical slip-ons at the door. "They said, `Hi, Mom and Dad
want you to wear these,'" says Dr. Cullinan. Though he wouldn't ask it of
his own guests, he says he dutifully put them on. "What are you going to do,
turn around and leave?"

Linda Roberts of Knoxville, Tenn., wanted to. After breaking her little toe
five times in her home, she thought she was done going barefoot -- until she
took her son to see her ex-husband and his wife, who have a no-shoes policy.
"Boy, she was giving me looks," says Ms. Roberts. So to avoid a scene, she
shed her shoes, sat down in the kitchen -- and didn't budge.

Indeed, etiquette gurus say compliance is about the only option for guests.
"You do what they want," says Shawna Schuh, a business consultant in Gaston,
Ore. "And then you question whether you'll ever visit again." Experts debate
whether it's appropriate to impose shoelessness in the first place. Most say
it depends on the party (business functions, no; good friends, better).
Hosts can get away with religious or cultural reasons, they say, but
finickiness is questionable. "How do you tell someone your new carpet is
more important than they are?" says Ms. Schuh.

That's why at least one host finally decided to relax. Terri Nelson and her
husband used to make guests go shoeless to spare their cream carpet. But
somebody dropped a cocktail-sauce-covered shrimp on it anyway. "Stuff
happens," she says. "Even when people take off their shoes."

---
Barefoot Boutique
Shoes-off hosting has spawned its own cottage industry. Here are
products for barefoot bashes, plus other floor-saving options:
Product: Arts & Crafts chest; www.berkeleymills.com
Comment: California furniture maker created its $3,450 blanket chests
for stowing quilts, but it estimates about half of buyers now get them
to store shoes in the entryway.
Product: Shoe covers; www.shoecovers.net
Comment: Company markets surgery-style booties to real-estate agents,
but says homeowners are buying now, too. One Minnesota hostess ordered
150 pairs, dubbing her event a "Blue-footed booby" party.
Product: Toes and Tattoos pedicure kit; www.jaquagirls.com
Comment: Now guests can go barefoot for a reason: Group pedicure!
Specially packaged for parties, this $15 kit includes polish, toe
separators and temporary tattoos for four.
Product: Corduroy house slippers; www.houserice.com
Comment: Site suggests keeping several loaner pairs of unisex
rubber-soled slippers (colors: navy, black, brown) for guests.
Product: CarpetSaver runner; www.carpetsaver.com
Comment: Pekin, Ill., etiquette expert Robin Thompson votes for
shoes-on parties, and advocates putting doormats inside and out. Still
not enough? This washable terrycloth runner can be cut to fit the
length of the entryway.
Product: Resolve Spot Magic carpet cleaner; Available at supermarkets
Comment: This spray promises instant stain removal with no scrubbing.
(There's also a foam version for larger areas.) After trying it on wine
spills and pet messes, our testers say: It really works.
Product: `Kindly Remove Your Shoes' entryway rock; www.stonewise.com
Comment: Company sells rocks (no kidding) engraved with messages, and
this one's the top seller of its 400-plus stock slogans. (No. 2: "What
If the Hokey Pokey Is What It's All About?")

Document j000000020030110dz1a00028

© 2003 Dow Jones Reuters Business Interactive LLC (trading as Factiva). All
rights reserved.

Lauren Lipton
The Wall Street Journal
(212) 416-3134

There used to be a japanese restaurant in Atlanta many years ago that made you shed your foot wear at the door. It was a novelty then. We would eat there when we were in town for a play or some other such event.

We were in Charleston a few years back doing the plantation tour fund raiser. It was pouring down rain when we went to one beautiful place. I can't remember the name now but it had a golf course. We had to take off our shoes at the door and don those hospital type things.
I totally understood. The mud and water would have ruined their floors and carpets.

Once in Russia I laughed because we were touring a palace there and we had to put shoe covers on. The shoe covers were squares of carpet pulled up by two corners and a piece of elastic holding it together. I remember thinking then that it was a good idea but wished they knew about the hospital shoe covers. I also wondered why they didn't do a similar thing at the Hermitage in St. Petersburg to protect those beautiful old floors.

In private homes,I suppose "when in Rome" would be the thing to do.

Just think what a whole new world of opportunities for yet another shopping trip it would bring if it became the norm to take off one's shoes before entering someone's home.
You'd have to have a pedicure at least every 2 weeks and you certainly wouldn't want to wear those tacky little shoe or foot covers or anything that someone else had put on their feet. The very thought of catching a fungus or some other such thing would be enough to drive one to drink.

There would be a rush to design little shoes and foot covers of every color and material.
Fabric would have to be imported from all over the world.
There would be a scramble of designers to come up with the best the quickest. Milan would probably devote a whole show to shoe covers alone.

Television commercials would have to be made showcasing beautiful feet wearing the very latest from Paris in shoe and foot covers.

Oh! My! God! we would then have to make yet another decision. Which shoe covers to take to wear with the dress.
I can't think about this today. "I'll think about it tomorrow y'all" she says as she presses the back of her hand to her forhead and sighs.

No wonder the Wall Street Journal was so interested.

Janis