Does Doechii Know Why She Went Barefoot to the Met?
- 13 hours ago
- 3 min read
What looked like a controversial fashion moment was actually something much deeper: a return to ancestral memory, African spiritual symbolism, and grounding practices long tied to Black culture. The backlash surrounding Doechii’s choice revealed just how disconnected many Black Americans have become from traditions once rooted in African spiritual life.
Social media quickly framed Doechii’s barefoot Met Gala appearance as “dirty,” “attention-seeking,” or “odd.” But many African and Indigenous traditions have historically viewed bare feet as sacred, as being connected to both spirit and earth. Colonialism and forced assimilation taught Black people to reject, and even mock, practices once deeply tied to our ancestral identities.
Black culture often jokes about white people walking barefoot in public spaces. Whether it is someone shoeless in a gas station or grocery store, the image is usually associated with privilege or lack of home training. But Doechii was not walking barefoot down a New York City sidewalk. She removed her shoes on the carpet, inside one of fashion’s most curated environments.
That distinction matters.
The internet reacted as though she had abandoned decorum altogether, when in reality, her choice functioned more like spiritual symbolism than carelessness. The discomfort surrounding the moment also speaks to something larger: respectability politics and the policing of Black expression. Historically, Black people have been forced to present themselves as polished and hyper-aware of appearance in order to combat racist stereotypes. Because of that history, even harmless acts can trigger discomfort if they seem too far outside Western norms.
The problem was never that Doechii was barefoot. The problem is that many people can only digest Blackness when it is filtered through respectability.
Across African spiritual traditions, Hoodoo practices, Caribbean customs, and Southern Black traditions, being barefoot can symbolize connection to the earth, spiritual cleansing, humility, and reconnection to self. Grounding practices are tied to the belief that the body can absorb energy from the earth itself.
This was not a random stunt, but a continuation of the spiritual transformation Doechii has openly discussed in recent years. She has spoken publicly about sobriety, healing, and becoming more grounded within herself. She has also referenced practicing The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, a spiritually centered program focused on self-reflection and artistic healing.
Doechii herself explained that being barefoot made her feel “grounded,” “vulnerable,” and “feminine.” Even her styling choices, including West African-inspired henna and anklets, reflected intentional cultural markers tied to spirituality and connection to the body.
But if she were speaking only to Black people still connected to these traditions, perhaps she would not have had to explain herself at all.
In her first Substack essay, If you were writing to Black people, you wouldn’t have to edit so much, she writes, “I want to say shit the way I understand shit.”
Then she goes even further:
“I’m constantly backspacing, editing, deleting, over-explaining, diluting, faking—fucking torturing myself trying to say shit in a way non-Black folks can understand. I am exhausted.”
But is it just non-Black people who do not understand?
Black spirituality is often misunderstood once it leaves Black spaces and enters mainstream conversation. Yet Black people especially understand that spirituality and emotion often show up visually before they can be articulated intellectually.
Perhaps the line from her essay that ties everything together most is:
“Create what you wish existed, become the artist you need.”
There are not many mainstream Black artists openly centering African-rooted spirituality in ways that feel both disruptive and culturally honest. But that is exactly the space Doechii appears to be creating for herself. Not through performance designed to make everyone comfortable, but through vulnerability, intuition, and intentional connection to traditions many people have forgotten how to recognize.
And maybe that is why the barefoot moment mattered so much.
Not because Doechii took off her shoes, but because she reminded people that Black expression does not always have to explain itself through a Western lens to be understood.
Written by Ketia Jeune



