Crocs Rock
When my friend Mandi first showed me her Crocs, I mocked her mercilessly. I believe I described them as “a crime against fashion.” Which they are. Just because it hasn’t been mocked on go fug yourself and Stacy and Clinton don’t have a rule for it yet doesn’t mean it’s not a sartorial Don’t.
The odd, bulbous toe….the ventilation slots….the strange rubbery texture….there’s no denying the sheer ugliness of the world’s trendiest garden clog. There’s also, I’m now willing to admit, no denying their comfort and practicality.
My seduction by the dark side of shoes was a gradual process. First, there was the comfort factor; walking is Crocs is like strapping pillows to your feet. Massaging pillows. Between the cushiony softness of the strange rubbery sole and the little nubblies that pepper it, I defy you to find a more comfortable shoe. But they’re still the very definition of fugly, and I’m all about suffering for my shoe art.
But I’m also all about bright, bold colours. And crocs seem to have redefined the rainbow. Against my will, I found myself staring at the riotous displays seeking to break my resolve with orange, fushia, aqua, and a host of other exciting colours. Maybe, just maybe, the loud, ridiculous hues could work to distract the eye from the sheer hideousness of the design.
Then there was the feature I’d initially used to justify my position that Crocs are the antithesis of style: The washability factor. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against washable shoes, but I firmly believe that they do not belong in the dishwasher. Which is why I powerwash them. Between the sand at the playground, the water from the pool, and the fact that we walk almost everywhere, and the most offensive feature has become a huge selling point–no mess, no nasty foot smell….Hooray for shoes you can just hose down at the end of the day!
The final nail in my anti-Crocs coffin though was this. Crocs, more than any other item I can think of, prove the axiom that anything can be adorable if it’s made in a small enough size. (Regan calls them her “crocodile shoes. How cute is that?)
So, my name is Kimberly, and I love my Crocs. Wanna make something of it?
(Hey, if you’d like to see actual real pictures of people’s adorable children and not just shots of some fugly shoes, go visit this site. Heck, why not upload a photo or two of your own while you’re there?)