Skip to main content

Soft Luxe Living: Self-Respect Starts With Your Slippers

 


We often think of soft luxe as the beautiful, curated things — travel, glow, and indulgent little moments. But sometimes, it’s the smallest, most ordinary choices that truly reflect how much we respect ourselves.


One day last week, I found myself slipping in the bathroom. I've been having these very minor slips for quite a while now. I kept thinking that it's the tiles, so I asked my husband to scrub the bathroom floor. As I finished my shower, it occurred to me that the problem might be my slippers. I checked the bottom and...

there's was no more traction! 

Do you wait for your slippers to literally snap in half before you replace them? I do. But think about it. We shuffle around on worn soles, slipping on tiles, pretending it’s fine because, after all, “they still work.” But worn-down slippers aren’t just uncomfortable — they’re unsafe. And choosing to endure that is choosing to neglect ourselves.

I knew it was time to change them, but I was having a hard time! I even texted my friend to ask if I should ditch this pair already. It's as if I'm looking for someone to validate my decision as correct and necessary, so that I won't feel bad about it! 

And that made me stop and say, "What am I doing? It's a pair of slippers! My safety is at stake!"

So I thought about other things that we neglect. Self-respect begins in these quiet decisions:

  • Retiring slippers when the traction fades, before they trip you.
  • Replacing bras with stretched-out bands, instead of adjusting them a hundred times. (And bacon underwear!)
  • Throwing away a mug with a tiny crack before it cuts you.
  • Refreshing everyday tools — pens, notebooks, pillows (those yellow stains are breeding grounds for bacteria and dust mites)— before they become frustrations.
I threw away the 3 pens on the right. I love using markers and gel pens. These are my son's. I wasn't able to use these a lot, but I know he was able to use them for his drawings when he was younger.  Before, when a pen stops, but still has a lot of ink, I try different ways to make it write again. Today, I just chuck them in the bin. I don't want to waste my time and energy. These 3 pens actually still have some ink left but they're very light already. 


It’s not about extravagance. It’s about honoring your safety, comfort, and worth. To say: “I matter enough to live without unnecessary discomfort.” This wasn't in my vocabulary until a few months ago. I've always endured the discomfort of an old pair of slippers or chipped plates (that cut me when I wash them). I realize now that it's self-respect. That I should have done it sooner. 


I'm pretty sure I've gotten my money's worth on this pair of slippers already, so I happily put them in the recycling bin. By the way, Banana Peel is a local brand of slippers. I love their slippers because they're durable. They last longer than Havaianas. They have fun designs, too! This particular pair was from their local celebrations collection. The prices are great and they have slippers for kids and adults. They also have regular collaborations with Sanrio and feature Hello Kitty in their designs. I'm very happy to support local businesses that offer high quality products. (Yay, for local entrepreneurs!). I keep several pairs for myself and my family so that we always have back-ups in case a pair breaks, or in my slippers' case, time to retire. 

Soft luxe living is not waiting for things to break before we act. It’s curating a life where even the most ordinary objects whisper care, dignity, and respect.

Because yes — self-respect can start with your slippers. And when you slip into a fresh pair before the old ones betray you, you’re not just avoiding a fall. You’re reminding yourself: I am worth the ease. I am worth the care.


P.S.

And how good does it feel to slip into a fresh new pair of slippers, right? 😊

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Pleasure of Leaving It Behind

  I really liked this dress. Enough that I stood there looking at it for far longer than necessary, having that familiar little debate with myself. It was black. Simple. Very me. I could already imagine how I would wear it. There was only one problem. The fabric was thick. And perhaps in another climate, or another version of my life, that wouldn’t matter very much. But I live in the Philippines. We’re going through El Niño. Heat and I are already not particularly good friends, and my histamine sensitivity has made me even less willing to wear something that might leave me uncomfortable simply because it looks good. Still, I stood there. Because sometimes walking away from something we like is strangely difficult, even when we already know it isn’t right for us. We start negotiating. Maybe I’ll only wear it indoors. Maybe the fabric isn’t that thick. Maybe I’ll regret leaving it behind. Then I realized I was trying awfully hard to convince myself to buy something my body had alrea...

Used to the Last Drop: The Ones I’d Already Told You About

  There’s something particularly satisfying about finishing a product you’ve already written about. Not testing it. Not forming first impressions. Not wondering whether I’ll still like it three weeks from now. Finished. My Molang Honey sheet masks and this body scrub both made it all the way to the end. (Finally for the Molang sheet masks, right?) I’ve reviewed both before, so I won’t review them all over again here. But perhaps using something until there is nothing left to use is its own kind of review. Beauty products come through my bathroom rather frequently. Some are lovely for a week. Some get pushed to the back of a shelf. Some simply stop working for me. And then there are the ones that quietly disappear because I kept reaching for them. Maybe an empty container is the shortest review of all. I liked it enough to finish it. If you want to read my thought about these products, just type them on my search bar. —- With elegance and quiet fire, Lady E Founder, Glow by Lady E...

Soul Notes: For Your Journal Tonight

Come sit with me for a while. I have my journal open, and tonight I’ve been thinking about something I suspect I do more often than I realize. I turn healing into another thing I need to accomplish. I want to know when I’ll be over something. When I’ll stop thinking about it. When something that hurt will finally stop hurting. When I’ll feel like myself again. And somewhere along the way, healing quietly becomes another deadline. Another invisible date on a calendar. Another thing I can somehow be late for. But maybe healing doesn’t work particularly well under project management. Maybe there are things I will understand quickly and things I’ll have to revisit again and again. Maybe I’ll feel completely fine one day and unexpectedly tender the next. That doesn’t mean I’ve gone backwards. It means I’m still moving through it. I remember one day, many years ago, when I had fibromyalgia. I lived in constant pain. I just couldn’t get a good day. And then one day, in the office...