Matt and I took a superquick trip to San Diego this weekend as we really felt the need to go somewhere, anywhere. We don’t do too many things together that involve planning or spending or traveling beyond Crenshaw Blvd., so these 24 hours away from the laptops next to our pillows were a real treat. Our stay was lovely and you can read all about it here.

When I was living in Arizona, people would tell me that I’m so L.A. and I’d be like, huh? I’ve never even lived in L.A. (just in a pleasant boring suburb) and then they’d be like, okay then, you’re so Orange County. And I never knew what that meant because it’s not like I surf or carry designer purses or ever got into Laguna Beach. So maybe it was because I say “like” a lot, which I’m actively trying cut back on — really, it’s one of the things on my self-improvement list. But I don’t think that was what made me OC. I was confused. I mean, I guess it worked. I always knew I walked too slowly to live in New York, dressed too trendy to live in Portland, drove too timidly to live in L.A., loved Asian food too much to live in most of middle America and didn’t hate Republicans enough to live in San Francisco. So maybe.

This weekend, while driving back from San Diego, we made a stop at the Rainbow factory store in San Clemente. I haven’t worn a pair of Rainbows since I lost mine a few years ago. Slipping my feet into them again brought back so many memories of college and the good ‘ol OC. My heart flip-flopped. (Get it?)

I remember when people would wear these things everywhere: to the food court, to class, to South Coast, to Malarky’s (every girl knew she’d end up drunk on the beach at some point; high heels just wouldn’t do). I loved the cool-without-trying vibe they gave off. For guys, the more destructed your Rainbows were, the cooler you were. Like OMG, your soles are so worn down that your heels can touch the ground? That’s hot. I myself strolled miles in these eco-friendly, multiple-layer sandals. Rainbows became a durable symbol of my OC life.

My coworker recently moved from New York and was lamenting SoCal’s laidback fashion scene.

“Flip flops are hideous,” she said. “I just can’t get into them.”

“You have to,” I replied.

“I know,” she said sadly.

Visiting the Rainbow store made me think that I’m more OC than I thought. I can’t wait to start living in my new Rainbows — once they stop hurting like a bitch.