It’s Monday morning – 6.30am to be precise – and you wake abruptly to a cacophony of alarms. Your phone, your watch and even the radio, which you smugly set-up the night before, are all yelling at you like a bunch of chip-hungry gulls.
Startled into action, you leap out of bed and start clattering around the darkness to find them – to shut them up. By 6.31am you’ve broken a sweat, which is a little depressing, but the alarms have been silenced, and that’s all that really matters.
After a brief pause on the side of the bed, the familiar post-weekend routine of getting ready for work begins. By 6.50am you’re done; clothes on, bag packed, breakfast inhaled. You’ve even managed to set aside two minutes to stare blankly into the mirror.
You find the door keys (remarkably, their where you left them the night before – again, you feel smug), unlock the door and step out into the pre-dawn light.
But something feels strange. Something’s different. It’s not until you reach the end of the front garden that realised it’s your shoes. You’ve forgotten to put on your shoes on. Again.
We’ve all been there. Well, we probably haven’t, but you can get the sentiment – and you can imagine how it might make you feel. A bit embarrassed, exposed, yet oddly liberated.
To cut a long story short, this is kind of what it feels like to pull on a pair of Skinners Comfort 2.0s for the first time.
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First impressions
Enough of all that guff, let’s get to the point. Skinners Comfort 2.0s (RRP £53.90) are ‘sock shoes’, ultralight footwear that feels very much like a sock but has the protection of a 3mm-thin, flexible sole – a bit like a slim layer of tarmac mixed with glue.
But they really do feel like socks – and that's where that initial feeling of embarrassment kicks in.
It's fair to say I felt a little naked stepping out of the house for the first time in my Anthracite (black) Skinners. The tarmac sole – which is actually made of durable Swedish polymers – has a certain glint to it, almost sparkling in warm autumn sunlight. What would the neighbours think?
After a brisk half mile through the village, past twitching curtains and eyebrow-raising dog walkers, I finally made it to the forest. Birdsong drifted through the blushing trees. I began to relax, only then realising how comfortable the soft, sock-like material felt around my feet.
But then another test: a puddle. I began to feel exposed, flashbacks of that fateful Monday morning when I forgot to put on my shoes dashing through my mind. Without thinking, I went straight for it, dunking one foot then the other into its murk. The silty sludge lapped over the water-resistance sole, but quickly breached the knitted upper fabric (a combination of Italian fibres).
On the trail
My feet were now wet. But in truth I was quite enjoying the sensation of water on skin. It felt like this was all part of the philosophy of the sock shoes, to really sense the landscape.
Continuing up the stony track, I was surprised at how well the outsole, combined with the removable 2mm-thin insole, protected the underside of my feet. There was the odd dull joust from a stray stone here and a stick there, but it wasn't uncomfortable. And according to Skinners, the Comfort 2.0s are durable enough to withstand 500 miles (800km) this punishment – not bad for a bulked-up sock.
I began to pay more attention to the stony track, dodging and weaving my way up through the trees then veering off on a dark, rooted side path, which twisted and steeped through stands of beech and hazel. How would the Skinners cope on tree roots and squelchy mud?
Quite well, it turns out. The ultra-flexible sole and overall lightness of the Skinners meant I was able to bend my feet over obstacles and nip nimbly from rock to root, and root to rock. The wide, supple toe box provided further dexterity.
The sock shoe's main pitfall on these more uneven trails was the lack of grip on the sole. Unlike most footwear, they don’t have any tread, and I found myself slipping from time to time on steep rocky sections of the path. But again, much like on the stony track, I adjusted, pausing to assess the best route ahead, seeking balance from the rough, gnarled tree trunks that flanked the way.
Everything felt more considered, and I was enjoying it. I had tried numerous barefoot shoes before, but this whole ultra-minimalist affair was talking things to the next level – one step closer to actual barefoot walking.
Returning down the hill, through the deep, brown puddles and the autumn trees, my path to conversion felt complete – from embarrassment to liberation in one delightful autumn stroll.
Handy extras
Washable
Like all of Skinners' sock shoes, the Comfort 2.0s are easy to clean. Simply rinse them after each outing and hang them up to dry. Alternatively, you can chuck them in the washing machine at 30 degrees centigrade. Just remember to avoid fabric softens and dryers.
Fit
In my experience, the Skinners Comfort 2.0s fit a little larger than more traditional shoes. I'm usually a UK 10 but would probably drop down a half-size for the perfect fit.
The sock shoes are unisex, each model suitable for women and men.
Packability
The sock shoes can be rolled up to the size of an apple, making them easy to stow away in a small rucksack for lightweight adventures. This makes them a great option as a back-up for more substantial footwear (if that's your thing).
Multi-use
According to Skinners, the Comfort 2.0s can be worn for all sorts of activities, including walking, jogging, gardening, running errands and travel. While this is theoretically true, and will suit barefoot converts, it's worth noting that there is little to no protection on the upper part of the footwear – you'll need to be mindful not to drop things on your feet!
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