Shoes Off: An American Horror Story

For a few years now, I’ve been tracking Americans’ horror of being asked to take their shoes off when they visit someone’s home.

It’s a subject that comes up again and again in American pop culture, always sparking a fierce debate on social media. The New York Times has tackled the subject multiple times: in an advice column about how to deal with a shoes-off home, one person notes their investment in a “sock wardrobe” as a solution to the conundrum. Then there’s scientific inquiry: a study shows dirt on shoes is quite harmless — following this logic, people shouldn’t worry about taking their shoes off indoors.

Last week, the horror took the form of party advice, which implored hosts to not ask their guests to take off their shoes for the love of God, ew.

The terrifying prospect of a bossy hostess demanding you take your shoes off has driven the plot of entire American television episodes: in one episode of Sex and the City, Carrie Bradshaw visits the home of a friend with young children and is forced to take off her expensive high heels; when she leaves, she finds that her shoes have been stolen.

In an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David reluctantly goes to a dinner party and is asked to take off his shoes, which he refuses to do. An escalating series of events ends with the hostess screaming at David for being the only guest to retain his footwear, with David weakly explaining that his feet get chilly.

This is all very fascinating, because in most of the world, it really is the height of rudeness to wear your shoes inside someone’s home.

In Canada, some people don’t mind having shoes on in the house, while others prefer shoes off. So it’s common for guests to take off their shoes without being asked.

In a quintessentially Canadian exchange of “Sorry,” followed by “No, I’m sorry,” many hosts will reassure their guest that it’s OK to keep their shoes on, while the guest will maintain they’re much more comfortable with shoes off.

The shoes-on-or-off cultural divide between Canada and the United States was illustrated by a 2023 photo taken inside the Canadian prime minister’s residence during a visit by U.S. President Joe Biden and his wife.

The photo includes Justin Trudeau, his then wife, Sophie Grégoire Trudeau, and their three kids as they meet the Bidens in their living room.

Everyone seems to be wearing their shoes inside the house, except for 16-year-old Xavier Trudeau, who comfortably displays socked feet.

In an effort to investigate further, I surveyed a collection of my Tyee colleagues to find out where they stand on the great shoes-on-or-off debate.

Jackie Wong: ‘Across the board, we are shoes-off people’

I grew up in a big, multi-generational Chinese Canadian family in Vancouver. Across the board, we are shoes-off people.

So much so that at the tea ceremony for my brother's wedding a few weeks ago, the photographer, also East Asian, had to go against everything he held dear to request that our families all put our shoes back on — in a living room, to our horror! — in the name of artistic integrity and photographic composition.

In my early 30s I dated a shoes-on American. I was warmly welcomed into the homes of his Bay Area friends, and the experience carried the surreal air of a sitcom because everyone hung out indoors with their shoes on. Also, no time elapsed between me hearing the click of his key in the apartment door and him materializing by my side; without the Canadian buffer derived from the time required to kick off and put away your shoes, life moves at a different, in-your-face pace.

He came up to Vancouver over the holidays and my roommate and I threw a New Year's Eve party at our place. Everyone piled their shoes at the door, which to him felt completely wrong.

Things fizzled out amicably a few months later. I don’t think the shoes were a key wedge. But our opposing views on the matter surely didn’t help!

Katie Hyslop: ‘I want your shoes off in my home’

Unless the host is also wearing their shoes when they greet you at the door, it’s shoes off. Not sure if I cared before adulthood, but now that it’s me who is going to have to sweep or vacuum up the dirt you tracked in, I want your shoes off in my home. Especially if you’re going to put your feet on the furniture.

That being said, we have cats that track litter, litter dust and the imperceptible germs that come from walking where you recently peed all over our home. I accept that as part of life with cats.

So my aversion to shoes in the house is really more about personal preference and the appearance of cleanliness than it is about actual cleanliness. See also my fervent opinion that you only flush the toilet when the lid is down.

Hina Imam: ‘The softness of indoor sanctuary’

After a long day outside, I love nothing more than the sweet feeling of taking my shoes off first thing when I get home, and putting on my house slippers. It also helps separate the gritty nature of the outdoor world from the softness of indoor sanctuary.

Growing up, my dad was a stickler for rules and our apartment was strictly shoes off. It was a South Asian Muslim household, so of course any kind of shoes-on sensibility was heavily frowned upon.

The floor wasn’t merely for walking but was multi-purpose. Hosting a large dinner party? No problem. Have some of your guests sit on the ground in a circle instead of standing with their plates, nervously shifting their weight from one foot to another. The floor was also where you offered your daily prayers. Sure, you often kneeled on a prayer rug, but you still wanted to feel a sense of cleanliness.

In high school, a perky friend of mine would sometimes forget to take her shoes off at the door in her excitement to greet me. My dad would give me the side-eye every time, signalling that I should ask my friend to take her shoes off. I would feel so awkward and think to myself, “Is it really such a big deal?” But for my dad, it was non-negotiable. The house is a sacred space and should be treated as such.

A year before the pandemic, I had a new roommate who moved into our basement suite and would keep his shoes on indoors. I would watch with sheer dread as he would walk right in with his Blundstones tracking mud, dirt and God knows what. “Is nothing sacred anymore?” I would think to myself.

Turns out it is a big deal. And our parents can be right (sometimes).

Olamide Olaniyan: ‘Shoes on the bed is a sign of imperial decline’

I watched a TV show recently where two people were lying in bed with shoes on. My partner and I just looked at each other and smiled without saying a word.

I think the rest of the house would be up for debate, but for me, shoes on the bed is a sign of imperial decline.

Christopher Cheung: ‘Take your shoes off!’

This “debate” baffles me because we only ever knew it one way: you go to someone’s home, you take your shoes off.

With this came a highly developed slipper culture. Hosts would offer us the choice of a pair (“Don’t get your feet cold!”), and I would peruse the selection of colours from reds, pinks and navies and materials from cotton, poly and Malay grass (my mom’s latest). She takes this very seriously. When large groups came to visit, she’d line up the slippers at the ready, even setting aside special pairs for guests she knew had smaller feet.

Where did this shoes-on taboo and slippers-on tradition come from? We never saw our white friends do this, so we assumed it was a Chinese or East Asian cultural thing.

There is a mix of influences, involving health (cold feet cause imbalance), hospitality (respect of keeping the host’s home clean) and symbolism (bringing in real and metaphorical dirt from the world inside).

I’m not sure how the shoes-on crowd can reconcile guests tracking in bodily fluids from public washrooms into their home.

If you’re visiting me, please leave them at the door. I’ll have some slippers for you.

David Beers: ‘When in Rome...’

[Editor’s note: The Tyee’s editor-in-chief is from California, but moved to B.C. in 1991.]

We have hardwood floors that are really beat up so we don't ask people to take shoes off. I tend to wander around in socks so when people meet me at the door they reflexively start taking their shoes off and I have to really work hard to convince them they don't have to.

That said, I've picked up a splinter now and again off these old fir floors, so best to be well-shod when you visit!

I did move here 33 years ago so not sure my American roots apply much. When in Rome... take off your sandals?

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When you’re visiting someone’s home or people are visiting you, do you take off your shoes on arrival, or do you clomp about the house as the Americans do? Sound off in the comments!