If political coverage has you never wanting to hear the word “pothole” again, let me spice things up with an entirely new symbol of decline – one even more everyday, more easily fixed (and therefore even more damning). Potholes 2.0: ladies and gentlemen, I give you the shoelace, and how they do not stay tied any more.

If you’re wondering what my evidence is, I say: evidence schmevidence. Like most political grievances (PC gone mad! Migrants stealing our jobs!) it doesn’t need to be true, only to feel true. And a quick search online suggests I am not the only one who feels like shoelaces – which, let’s be clear, have one job! – are rubbish now. Reddit, Quora, Facebook: the shoelace‑curious are everywhere, with some even turning to the science of the knot itself. (Apparently common ways to tie shoelaces are versions of “the granny knot”, which physicists say is “destined to fail” – much like we are if we keep putting our physicists on jobs like this.)

I have probably read every post. Because the failure of shoelaces has been my private obsession for some years now. You see, I have always been a fan of trainers, and in the 2010s new designs started to catch my eye – styles marketed as “cutting edge”, using “technical” materials, that seemed to be created for the “optimised”, “high performance”, heavily caffeinated girlboss going to the gym at 5am.

These high-performance laces often looked great. Many were thinner and rounder for neatness, with some synthetic or coated lines promising to maintain their clean appearance longer. But they also slip quicker. They do not do the one thing we ask of them. They do not stay tied.

There is no amount of positive mental attitude that can make a rational woman feel “optimised” when she’s traipsing around with undone shoelaces like a toddler. No matter how hot the yoga or electrolytic the water, if you’re stacking it up escalators, there will be no inner calm. I’ve learned this the hard way, limping through co‑working spaces in expensive “all‑terrain” trainers (all terrains except the one you live in). Trust me: your email did not find me well.

Oh, and synthetic laces like nylon and polyester? Cheaper to produce. They leave that out in the marketing.

This is all just so very “now”, isn’t it? Optics but no substance. So we walk around in expensive fitness clothes during an obesity crisis, technical outdoor wear for trips we can’t afford, projecting affluent lives we don’t really lead – while those who do partly got there by the business of making everything just a little bit worse for us. This worsening, often disguised as progress, is so common it even has a name: enshittification.

OK, maybe I’m getting carried away. But you have a lot of time to ruminate when you’re once again on the pavement, having tripped over your expensive performance‑grade laces. As Oscar Wilde said, “We’re all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” Or rather, some of us are looking at our shoes, wondering how we got here.

• Coco Khan is a freelance writer and co-host of the politics podcast Pod Save the UK