You love that which you can lose, yourself, a woman, a country, a pair of sandals. Whenever we show pity, we empty our souls. Guibariane did not die of fear, he died out of shame – Shame for his stinking clodhoppers. The salvation of humanity is in its shame! Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris, 1972

This is the sort of subtle worst that I love. It gives the impression that the owner of the manky sandals stepped out of them and floated away after being shamed by the new shoes in the Nedlands window at night. Another gentle reminder that the rapture is still coming. Ellie saw these on Hampton Rd in Nedlands. She also claimed that the area was crawling with cockroaches, which may be the explanation for the giant bite taken out of the sandals. Another subtle worst to delight the historians of the future. Who the fuck was this Mainy they keep talking about? And sandals? Why Perth, why?

About The Lazy Aussie

Commended Haiku writer. A lover of The West's Worst. Perth stand-up comedian, photographer and writer.
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161 Responses to Sandalis

  1. Aren’t there many students living around there? Students and cockroaches? That juxtapostion just won’t fly. It does not compute!


  2. David Cohen says:

    Haiku 6009:

    If the sandal fits
    Clap your feet on Hampden Road
    And run from the storm.


  3. skink says:

    Haiku 2:

    even when barefoot
    not all who wander are lost
    unlike their sandals


  4. poor lisa says:

    They belonged to a bearded academic in his late 50’s, who was wearing a faded Ralph lauren polo shirt and carrying a toddler named Tom on his shoulders. He was probably exasperatedly waiting for his young second wife to finish checking out the pretty shoes in the shop so they could get Tom a babycino at the Dome, but I can’t quite visualise why he decided to abandon his.


  5. Pfortner says:

    texture of street brine
    twinned with sweat’s grimy pallette
    Robert Juniper


  6. vegan says:

    my first thought, before i scrolled down, was that you were talking about the manky sandals on the right of the window cill.


  7. Onanist says:

    Those of little faith
    Did not count on his return
    Barefoot once again


  8. Pfortner says:

    tantalising filth
    toes long for integration
    sweet contaminants


  9. Ljuke says:

    This picture tells me a story. Tim Winton looks in the window. Becomes disgusted by how extravagant and indulgent footwear has become. He abandons his own sandals and retreats to the bush, where he will live among the dugongs in a life of simplicity.


    • Pfortner says:

      …only to be found a couple of weeks later down at Trigg! I was windsurfing down there and suddenly there he was! He was so down to earth, y’know, a real bloke. We had a good yarn. It was amazing – not up himself at all. After, we went and got a pie. It was incredible!


    • Onanist says:

      He will pen a story, wistful in its nostalgia for a bygone Perth era.
      It will contain a cautionary theme within the story that centres around a large family (who live close to the sea) who frequently remove their shoes.
      The title: “Veruca”.


      • Pfortner says:

        That’s only a side project though; a bit of a diversion. Tim’s real passion is and always has been the sea – he is quintessentially a writer of the waters. To listen to the lilting lyricism of his prose is likened to lying in the languid lull of the soothing tides. Tim is an icon of the oceans, inasmuch as the water itself is an essential motif to his haunting, evocative work. That’s why Tim’s next novel will absolve all tedious obligation to plot and characterisation (too often forced upon the devil-may-care tranquility of the quintessential Western Australian regional lifestyle) and focus entirely on hydrodynamics. The title: “Flow”.


        • Pfortner says:

          ‘Shep twisted the tap in his hand. A bit harder. Then, he heard it – the faint rattling of the pipe out back. It was a real clanger. He could hear the water approaching, building in soft increments. It reminded him of Mandurah, of home. It had been so long. Then, with a sudden gurgle, the water emerged from the pipe, a long, flaccid spray. He watched in amazement and awe as the water tumbled out in fat droplets, only to break at the bottom of the basin and swirl away down the drain, to their destiny. Outside, a dog barked. Shep stepped back from the sink, marvelling. “Is this my life?” he breathed.’


    • WAtching says:

      Ljuke: I can forsee some big problems for you in class with “Mr Winton”

      Whenever I see Barra or Basil, and when I was photographing that sea shepherd guy, I cant help but giggle and my face goes burning red.

      So there you go Tim.


      • I’m hoping he will be recreating this from Animal House.
        Yes Mr Winton, cough cough blowjob.
        [audio src="" /]


        • WAtching says:


          The very moment “Mr Winton” opens his mouth, and that soft, slow and nauseatingly sincere voice comes out, our Ljuke is going to be in trouble.

          I forsee him falling of his seat, doubled over with manaical laughter.

          Even if it’s a Tarkovsky quote.


          • Shreiking Wombat says:

            Should we be thankful for small mercies?

            “Author Tim Winton admits he had to radically condense Cloudstreet to turn it into a script for a TV series.

            “Filming for the six-part screen adaptation of the 400-page Australian classic novel wrapped up in Perth in June.

            “Some parts of the book, which chronicles the lives of working class families the Pickles and the Lambs, had to be dropped, Winton said.”



            • Natalia Fan #1 says:

              Cookster has almost mastered the art of the opinion column, ala Maushart, Adams – dare I say even Michele Philips – to what I find disgusting effect. Sorry John, but I deplore these half-arsed “well isn’t life a bit funny after all”, i.e. “after I’m a well established capitalist family man/woman etc.” diatribes not only irrelevant but more than vaguely offensive. Maintain the rage, man, if there was any there in the first place.
              Look, I’m 37 myself now, and doing almost the same thing myself…


              • Natalia Fan #1 says:

                I’ve rendered myself completely irrelevant (drunk) by posting this in the wrong place, lol. To atone, will now cut and paste into the Wankle comment board, haha.


  10. Snuff says:

    Ummm … it’s a sign. Two, actually.


  11. skink says:

    I just read a news story that had the magnificent line:

    “all registered monkeys have been accounted for.”

    better than any haiku


  12. septic says:

    Pfortner etc.,

    Through his writing, Tim speaks to the hearts and minds of thousands of people in WA alone, and in doing so helps to foster a common sense of place and identity.

    Perhaps you could not be expected to understand this. After all, forty years of postmodernism have taught us to distrust such a sense.

    To not enjoy Tim’s writing is not so much to miss the point, as to have completely missed some important developmental component of growing up in WA, such as swimming lessons, eating a meat pie, or going to the football.

    Perhaps you are not from here, as your name suggests.


  13. Bill O'Slatter says:

    I beg to differ Septo. Pforts is every bit as talented as “Our Tim”, the ledge. . Jus look at his plotting for starters.WA is just about big enough for two of them.An Watching you forget to mention ” For all time”. Alas , I am from here.


  14. gregoryno6 says:

    After twenty years in Perth I can still say that I’ve successfully avoided reading Tim Winton. I did read one Elizabeth Jolley novel, but it reminded me too much of Patrick White.
    As for the sandals, their owner just evaporated with shame.


  15. rolly says:

    This is a real gem of a thread.
    To start with a cast off pair of well worn sandals and to end up with a critique of one of WA’s literary “giants”, ( I quote, but not necessarily agree), with only one outstanding contra voce, resonating with tones of total misconception, is decidedly a ‘best’ “worst”.
    Well done, gentle people.


  16. rolly says:

    That last post of mine has been “Sin Binned” it seems.
    Dig it out TLA, it’s complimentary.


  17. septic says:

    Look at you all, chortling away at your own heartless, self-congratulatory cynicism.

    At least Tim has DONE something.

    The rest of you, in the words of the great Asomvel, are

    Spineless haters, sat at their screens
    Masturbators by all manner of means
    Stab in the back from enemies unseen
    Lower form of life there’s never been….
    (‘Internet Commando’)


  18. Ljuke says:

    Guys, guys calm down. Let’s all take a breath. Now, may I take this opportunity to share with you a quote from that master wordsmith, the great Steve Harris:

    Riding through dust clouds and barren wastes
    Galloping hard on the plains
    Chasing the redskins back to their holes
    fighting them at their own game
    Murder for freedom the stab in the back
    Women and children, a coward’s attack
    Run to the hills, run for your life
    Run to the hills.

    Run for your life.
    (Harris, 1982)

    I think we can all see the pertinence of this, and hopefully learn something about ourselves.


    • At least those redskin killers DID something. Even though it was redskin killing.


    • septic says:

      A rather sad attempt to discredit Iron Maiden through out of context quotation.

      The first two stanzas of the song, clearly sung from the Native American point of view, run:

      White man came across the sea
      He brought us pain and misery
      He killed our tribes, he killed our creed
      He took our game for his own need

      We fought him hard we fought him well
      Out on the plains we gave him hell
      But many came too much for Cree
      Oh will we ever be set free?

      The lyric then shifts to the above quoted passage, “Riding through dust clouds…”, now sung from the colonialist point of view. Crude perhaps, but an indictment of colonialism nonetheless.


  19. my ning says:

    Tarkovsky also said:

    “Juxtaposing a person with an environment that is boundless, collating him with a countless number of people passing by close to him and far away, relating a person to the whole world, that is the meaning of cinema.”

    Perhaps he should have said:

    “Juxtaposing a pair of sandals with an environment full of boundaries (Nedlands), collating it with countless pairs of footware passing by close and far away, relating those sandals to the whole world, that is the meaning of Perth.”


  20. Bento says:


    Was posted as a reply to Ljuke, but ended up floating in the ether, and is now context-free nonsense (more so than usual).

    Or maybe it’s the beer, gin, and Calabrese Fortified Firewater I’ve consumed.


  21. CB One says:

    I missed out on this one. Sandals, Winton & metal quotes!

    Iron Maiden though? I was born a Bolt Thrower man….


  22. Ljuke says:

    Just so you know, Cloudstreet is being reviewed on First Tuesday Book Club, ABC2 March 2.


  23. Pingback: Sucked off the planet « The Worst of Perth

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  25. The Legend 101 says:

    Yeah, This look something out of Cloudsreet or a crime show.


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