No matter how much an fan explains their adore of the common tootsies, feet are still seen as the red-headed stepchild to their some-more renouned siblings, bums, boobs, eyes and lips.
So what is it about this sold ascendancy that has millions of people – from all over the world, and of every gender – unfortunate to get their hands on your teasing toes?
Why are there whole wiki websites dedicated to luminary feet?
What do people wish to do when they get their hands on them?
Fortunately, we have put together my theories on all you need to know about foot fetishism.
Think about it – it’s the only partial of your physique that stays covered up for many of the year.
The only time anyone gets a genuine demeanour at your paws is in summer when we all mangle out the flip-flops and sandals.
Otherwise, they sojourn encased, and for women that mostly means in a far-reaching and smashing accumulation of footwear, much of which can be a bit of a turn-on itself.
As a dominatrix, my categorical introduction to the universe of foot fetishism was by cooperative men.
However, it’s not just about that.
Plenty of people we have oral to have very sold feet they enjoy, be they petite, clean, and with high arches, or the larger, prosaic variety.
Just like any other partial of the body, people have preferences for all shapes and sizes.
Smell can be a big draw.
Some people adore it to be over-powering, others enjoy that gloomy spirit of musk, while some are totally detered by it.
On arise the smell, and the taste, of a foot provokes the same greeting as when someone has spent time going down on their partner.
To walk around with the ambience of a foot in their mouth is manna from heaven.
They’re so much fun! Both for the admirer, and the wearer.
Personally, I’m all for a pedicure with some spangly red spike polish.
Wouldn’t we all wish to wear obvious high heels but descending over or feeling like we wish to cut the feet off, and hit the patriarchy with them?
Sadly, many of my sexiest boots have been relegated to a partial of the habit that’s just for pictures and sitting down.
But it’s still fun to shop for them.
As for the admirer, it opens up a whole universe of equipment to stroke, lick, kiss, or just… enjoy.
Look at your feet – they’re one of the curviest tools of your body.
Close your eyes and run your palm from your ankle, over your heel by your arches, to the toes where you can play with each, particular one.
It’s like one of those mobiles you get as a baby, so many surfaces to hold and play with.
Some people we have oral to contend they don’t really have a foot fetish, but that feeling of using their hands over a partial of a physique which goes from padded, to boney, to curvy… all those feelings on your fingers can be a provide for the passionate senses.
Unless something has left horribly wrong, the foot is the last citadel of loyal healthy beauty.
It can't be overwhelmed by encouragement surgery, and – many importantly – we have been given no vigour by the media for the feet to demeanour a certain way.
Do you know how singular that is?
You already know the age-old evidence that we are all being secretly told what we should and should not demeanour like by promotion in sequence to sell beauty products and certain fashions.
But feet have been left good alone.
Can we… can we keep it that way? Please??
Why boobs? Why bum? Why are we here? Why do birds unexpected appear?
For some men, it’s submission, but for others it’s just an innate, abdominal feeling – they see a foot, it creates them happy.
At the finish of the day, who are we to repudiate them?
Some people have theorised that it’s since the brain areas that are compared with genitals and feet are adjacent to any other so maybe some cross-wiring happens.
Others contend that it’s the consistent partial of the relatives we see as a baby.
You’re crawling on the floor, and mum’s got her boots off.
Then mum’s partner comes turn and it all kicks off.
Think of it as foot-based Freudianism.
Don’t get freaked out by someone who is into your feet (unless you’re worried with it).
We need to start meditative of them as a pleasant partial of the physique – after all, they can get us places.
Why is it some-more excusable for someone to be a boob or bum man but not a foot fan?
Having spent the past month unfortunate for a foot massage, we for one am beholden to anyone who wants to lay a palm on my hooves after Edinburgh Fringe (offers are always open, BTW).
Anyone who is in to feet is my friend, and we extol anyone who wants to save the soles – it’s zero tibia’fraid of.
Miranda’s sitcom Slaving Away is accessible at Audible.com