Dear Past Me: A Messy Open Letter About Buying Baby Sandals

Dear Sarah from last May,

You're currently sitting on the cold linoleum floor of aisle 14 at Target. You're wearing those embarrassing faded black leggings with the tiny hole near the left knee, holding a venti iced cold brew that's aggressively sweating all over your hand, and you're staring blankly at a wall of tiny footwear. Your sister just texted you to pick up some baby sandals for your nephew Finn before the family beach trip this weekend, and you're currently experiencing a minor existential crisis over velcro straps.

I know you're stressed. I know you've been sitting there for twenty minutes Googling things like "do babies even have arches" and "why are tiny shoes thirty dollars." Because right now, you think buying shoes for a tiny human who barely knows how to walk in a straight line should be, like, an easy ten-minute errand.

It's not.

It's a complete nightmare of misinformation and conflicting doctor advice and weird sizing charts that make zero sense. I'm writing this to you from the future to save you the literal tears you're about to shed in the Target parking lot, because I finally figured out the whole baby sandals situation. Well, mostly figured it out. I'm still winging it, obviously, but here's what I wish someone had just texted me while I was sitting there in aisle 14.

That whole barefoot is best thing (and why it's highly annoying)

Okay, so you're probably reading some forum right now where moms are yelling about how shoes ruin foot development. And honestly, Dr. Miller, who was Leo's doctor back when he was a baby, told me the exact same thing. She said barefoot is best for babies learning to walk. She used the word "proprioception," which I'm fairly certain means the foot's ability to sense the ground and send messages to the brain about balance and spatial awareness, though my understanding of pediatric physical therapy is mostly cobbled together from late-night Instagram scrolling.

Anyway, the point is, their feet have all these little muscles that need to grip the floor. When you shove them into stiff little mini-sneakers, they walk like tiny, drunk Frankenstein monsters.

But here's the reality check that those crunchy forums conveniently ignore. Barefoot is totally fine and great when you're in your own living room. But the minute you step outside into the real world? It's a completely different ballgame. You can't just let a wobbly one-year-old walk barefoot on a playground covered in sharp wood chips, or on hot asphalt that's been baking in the July sun, or on a pool deck where someone definitely dropped a glass bottle three weeks ago. You need a barrier.

That's literally the entire point of baby sandals. You're just trying to mimic the barefoot feeling while providing a tiny shield against the sheer hazards of the outdoors.

The great toe debate that kept me up at night

Listen to me very carefully. Buy closed-toe sandals.

I'm dead serious about this. My husband, who somehow thinks he holds a PhD in pediatric podiatry just because he successfully ordered running shoes online once, kept telling me we should get open-toe ones because "they look cooler." Do you know what doesn't look cool? A bleeding big toe.

Babies drag their feet. They trip over literal air. They drag their toes on the concrete when they're crawling or using those push-walker toys. If you put a new walker in open-toe sandals, they're going to scrape the absolute hell out of their vulnerable little toes on the sidewalk. A good closed-toe sandal protects the front of the foot but still lets the rest of the foot breathe, which is exactly what you need for playground trips and neighborhood walks. It's a non-negotiable for me.

Open-toe ones are fine for sitting in a stroller or hanging out on a soft grassy lawn, I guess.

Sweaty feet and the plastic trap

Here's a deeply disgusting fact I learned during my 3 AM research spiral. Baby feet sweat four to five times more than adult feet. Yes. Let that sink in. Their tiny little feet are basically miniature swamps.

If you buy those cheap, stiff plastic sandals, you're essentially putting their sweaty little feet into tiny greenhouses. The heat gets trapped, the sweat pools, and suddenly you're dealing with massive, painful blisters and fungal situations that nobody wants to deal with on a family vacation. You have to look for natural, breathable materials. Leather is good, organic cotton canvas is great, anything that actually lets air circulate.

Speaking of natural materials and things that breathe, this whole sweat issue completely reminded me of the clothing struggle we had with Leo. Remember how he used to get those awful, bumpy red heat rashes on his chest whenever we put him in synthetic clothes during the summer? God, that was awful. The only thing that saved our sanity was the Organic Cotton Baby Bodysuit Sleeveless Infant Onesie from Kianao. It was honestly my absolute favorite thing he wore. It's just so soft, and the organic cotton actually breathes so the sweat doesn't just sit against their skin. Plus, it stretches perfectly over their giant baby heads without that terrifying moment where you think you're going to pop their ears off. We had it in like four colors and he practically lived in them until he outgrew the biggest size. If you're buying Finn shoes, maybe grab one of those bodysuits too, because beach weather means sweat.

Oh, and while I was shopping for Finn, I also randomly bought Maya that Wooden Baby Gym | Rainbow Play Gym Set with Animal Toys because she was a newborn at the time and I was in a "buy all the pretty wooden things" phase. It's just okay, honestly. Like, it's objectively beautiful and looks way better in my living room than the hideous neon plastic play mats that scream songs at you, but she honestly spent more time staring blankly at the ceiling fan than playing with the little wooden elephant. Babies are weird. But at least it didn't clash with my rug.

Anyway. Back to feet.

How to actually measure a squirmy alien foot

This is where I messed up the most with Leo, and I don't want you to repeat my mistakes. Sizing baby shoes is a special kind of torture.

You think you should just buy a size up so they last longer, right? Wrong. If you buy sandals that are too big, the baby will trip over the front of the shoe constantly. If you buy them too small, you're squishing those developing cartilage bones. You need the Goldilocks fit.

Here's the magic rule I finally learned from a physical therapist mom in my preschool carpool line. You need an 8 to 12 millimeter gap. But wait—and this is the big part that I completely botched the first time—that gap goes in front of their longest toe. Not behind the heel! I used to shove my finger down the back of Leo's shoe to see if it fit, which is completely backwards. You have to push their heel all the way to the back of the shoe, and then make sure there's about a finger's width of space between their longest toe and the front edge of the sandal. This gives them room for the foot to roll forward when they take a step.

Also, do the red mark test. Take the sandals off after they've worn them for twenty minutes. If you see deep, angry red lines across the top of their chubby little foot or around the ankle, the shoes don't fit. Babies have ridiculously high insteps and fat little feet, so you really need sandals with wide, adjustable velcro straps so you can customize the fit.

If you need a break from thinking about feet, you should really check out Kianao's organic clothing collection because honestly, dressing them is so much easier than shoeing them.

The teething distraction

Look, I know you're just at Target for sandals, but since Finn is one, he's probably shoving everything in his mouth right now, including the shoes you're trying to buy. When Leo was that age, his molars were coming in and he was an absolute terror. Just a drooly, grumpy, sleepless monster.

I ended up getting him the Panda Teether Silicone Baby Bamboo Chew Toy and it was a total lifesaver. It's flat enough that his clumsy little hands could really grip it, and the textured parts seemed to really dig into the exact spot on his gums that was bothering him. Plus it's food-grade silicone so I didn't panic when he aggressively chewed on it for three hours straight. You can even toss it in the fridge to get it cold, which is basically magic for swollen gums. You might want to grab one for Finn so your sister doesn't lose her mind on the drive to the beach.

Just buy the shoes and go home

So, past Sarah, here's your game plan. Stand up, brush the Target floor dirt off your leggings, and go find a pair of closed-toe sandals made of soft, flexible material. Check the toe box to make sure it's wide enough that Finn's toes can splay out naturally. Make sure the sole bends near the ball of the foot, not straight in the middle.

And for the love of god, stop stressing so much. He's going to outgrow them in four weeks anyway. Seriously, their feet grow so fast it's basically a financial crime.

You're doing fine. The iced coffee is melting. Just grab something adjustable and get out of there before you start crying in public again.

Ready to upgrade your little one's wardrobe with things that really make sense? Shop Kianao's full collection of organic baby gear right here.

The messy FAQ I wish I had

Are hard soles or soft soles better for early walkers?

Oh, soft soles, one million percent. My doctor was super clear about this. If the sole is stiff like a tiny combat boot, they can't feel the ground at all and they just kind of clomp around and fall over. You want a sole that you can easily bend with your own hands, especially right at the ball of the foot where they push off.

How often do I really need to measure their feet?

Honestly? Like every four to six weeks. I know, it's exhausting and expensive. But they go through these random growth spurts where you wake up one morning and suddenly their shoes look like overstuffed sausages. Just keep checking for that 8-12mm gap in front of the toe, and if the gap is gone, it's time to size up.

My baby has really chubby feet and high arches, what do I do?

This was Leo exactly! His feet looked like literal dinner rolls. You have to find sandals that open up almost completely flat. Anything that you've to slide their foot into is going to make you sweat and swear. Look for styles with double velcro straps across the top so you can adjust them over the chunkiest parts of their foot.

Should they wear socks with sandals?

Look, the fashion police might come for me, but yes, sometimes! If we were going to be out all day and I was worried about the sandals rubbing their sweaty feet and causing blisters, I totally put little thin cotton socks on them. It looks incredibly dorky, but it saves you from dealing with a screaming toddler with a blistered heel, so who cares.

Can they wear their sandals in the water?

Depends on the material. If you buy nice leather ones, definitely don't let them wade into the ocean or you'll ruin them immediately (ask me how I know). But if you grab a pair made from that lightweight EVA foam stuff or natural rubber, yeah, let them splash away. Just make sure they dry out fully so they don't get that weird damp smell.