Erica Hope

ALWAYS LISTEN TO MOM How two weeks at my mum’s changed the way I look after myself — for good. My mum glanced down at my feet, went quiet, and asked: “When did this happen?” I looked down too. Cracked heels. Dry, rough patches I’d been ignoring for months. What she did next is the only reason I’m writing this. But let me back up. I met Tom in Spain — a girls’ trip that was meant to be about sun, sangria and zero responsibilities. By day three, neither of us was pretending the running-into-each-other was a coincidence. Cue a year of back-and-forth flights and airports that somehow started to feel romantic. My parents made the whole thing possible, in ways I’ll never fully repay. So when Dad went away for a couple of weeks, I flew home to stay with Mum. I didn’t just want to go — I needed to. It felt like the smallest way to give something back. Mum has diabetes, so there’s always a bit more to manage — meals, routines, keeping her comfortable. I didn’t mind. She does so much for everyone else; it felt good to be the one looking after her for once. The first few days the whole family was around — loud dinners, too much food, everyone talking over each other. Then Dad left for the week and it was just Mum and me. The house went quiet, in the best way. We talked late into the night the way we used to. I’d forgotten how much I missed it. Which brings me back to the sofa. She’d been staring at my feet for a second before she said anything. “When did this happen?” Honestly? It crept up on me. I have creams at home — I always have creams. But I find the whole ritual annoying. You can’t walk around after, you’re stuck waiting for it to soak in, and half the time it ends up in your socks instead of your skin. So you stop bothering. And this is what you get. Mum got up without a word and came back holding a pair of socks. Pink ones. Not regular socks — a different texture, slightly silky, almost see-through. Her podiatrist had recommended them because of her diabetes; good foot care isn’t really optional when you’re managing blood sugar. She’d ordered them on the spot. “Put these on.” Not a suggestion. So I did, right in the middle of the film. They felt strange at first — different from anything I’d worn. A few minutes later I’d forgotten they were on. Then Mum asked me to make tea. I got up — and stopped. The moment my feet hit the floor it felt like stepping onto something cushioned. Soft in a way that wasn’t the carpet. My heels. Smooth. Actually smooth. I stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle, shifting my weight foot to foot like an idiot, just because it felt that good. I ordered my own pair before I’d even flown home. → heyfeet.com I added the HeyStick too — a 40% urea cream in a no-mess stick, for the really stubborn dry patches. First week back in Amsterdam, the difference was something else. Tom noticed before I said a word. Then he tried them. Now he’s got his own pair. And I’ll say this: there’s something very endearing about a Dutchman on the sofa in pink skincare socks looking thoroughly pleased with himself. 😄 He still won’t admit they were my idea first. HeyFeet Silks are silver ion-infused skincare socks that lock your skin’s own moisture in while you wear them. No soaking, no salon, no waiting around. Clean your feet, slip them on for anywhere from 20 minutes to overnight, and let them do the work — the material forms a soft, breathable seal that keeps moisture against your skin the whole time. Vegan. Latex-free. Reusable for months. For cracked heels and stubborn spots, add the HeyStick — that same 40% urea, minus the mess. It’s the combination my mum’s podiatrist didn’t know she’d started. Life is tough. Your feet don’t have to be. 👉 Free shipping. 30-day money-back guarantee. If your feet don’t feel softer, you don’t pay.