I love to see pretty feet.
With the cold weather here now, they are a rare sight.
On a recent shopping trip to town, the gloom of trekking from one shop to another was forgotten when I saw a young woman walking toward me in jeans and bare feet. By that I mean some kind of open toed wooden sandal with a heel.
In this particular instance the shoes are of no importance as the jeans obscurred most of them, but what you could see of the foot, mainly the toes, were beautiful.

The owner of these toes I like to think was rightly very proud of them. Lighty tanned (fake or otherwise) with buffed but un-painted nails, they were, whether you have a thing about feet or not, just beautiful.