Now that I am an evening bus-rider in this pedestrian-agnotic community, I purchased the above to replace my beloved Sanduks, which look like fishing shoes and reached comfort half-life at ninety days. Dayfive Gibsons are good for the crumbling concrete and clay beneath my feet, forcing me to walk on the pad and heel like an upright mammal, as opposed to having one’s arches perched upon a wad of gooey foam. They are seemingly pitched to propel me forward. Also, they suffered their first scuff yesterday, which looks like an hourglass to me. The march of time. I like it.
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