Hot fuzz is too warm

And you thought I was joking about spa slippers.

If you've ever been to a spa, you'll know that they dress you in a fluffy white robe and a pair of white one-size "scuff" slippers. Well named, because you have to sort of shuffle in them to keep them on -- which, if you have had a great spa treatment, is all your legs are able to do anyway. Just as hotels and spas now sell the white robes in order to capture the money they were losing from flat-out theft, spa slippers are now for sale.

I am delighted to find that neither my Google dictionary widget nor dictionary.com lists "spa slipper" as an entry. Therefore, I can stake my claim to providing the first definition ever, in the history of humanity.

A spa slipper, in its basic, Platonic glory:

• Is a flat slipper made of terry cloth or microfiber (to absorb water or lotions)
• Has a rubber bottom (so you won't slip if there's some water from the sauna on the floor)
• Is slip-on (so you don't have to ruin your manicure or use any more than the minimum number of muscles to get them on)
• Is snow white.

If you look at Nordstrom or Zappos, you'll see that the envelope has been massaged on this. Spa slippers now come in shapes that include thong, which does not seem like it would be spa comfortable; the color range has expanded to include pastel pink and blue. I can't wait for the moment when the fashion establishment decides that spa slippers that look like cotton candy are not calming but annoying.

But, hey, who doesn't want to walk around the apartment picking up kleenex in slippers that make you feel like you're in a spa?

Today you can find me at this other end of the sexy spectrum, not in tall leather boots with two-inch heels but in fuzzy square white spa slippers, just arrived from Zappos and Nordstrom. The genesis of this experiment was that I needed tights, and if I also purchased shoes from Nordstrom I would receive free shipping. Spend $40, save $5, who could resist? So after much research I bought white Acorn spa slippers.

I stuck with impractical, ultimately decadent white. I originally broke the rules: the slippers I bought are not for spas because they're like soft loafers and you have to use your finger to get your heels into them. And then I discovered something critically important: all that microfiber wrapped around your foot is really, really, really warm. That is not a cool cloud you're walking on.

So from Zappos today came my alternative, the white Acorn spa slide, which makes my foot look flat and square and fuzzy, and which is like walking on a cloud, plus my toes can breathe. They are like wearing angel shoes, so lovely, and I want to wear them all the time. Walking from living room to bedroom is not doing it for me. Interestingly, Acorn seems to lightly scent their slippers with a subtle, vague, inoffensive spalike smell. Intending to evoke that part of your memory associated with pampering.