(image courtesy of listentoleon.net)I distain Crocs. When they first appeared on my friends’ feet, they claimed that they were comfortable. My friend C said they were the best shoes to have when she crewed during college. “They’re light and feel like nothing on your feet!” I maintained that they look like gardening shoes, that only my mom (who I love, but only recently tuned herself into the world of trendy fashion) would wear in her tomato patch on summer days. Crocs are best paired with graying hair and tacky rubber gloves. Not designer handbags and daisy duke shorts.
I gave in a year ago when I found a pair of Boston Red Sox themed Crocs in a random boutique on Washington Street. I had on the most uncomfortable pair of ballet flats and my feet were screaming for anything that wouldn’t pinch or blister. I paid the inflated twenty-something dollars for the two red and blue pieces of rubber in hopes of comfort. I soon learned that every single one of my friends that said they wore them for comfort lied. The footbed is prickly, the holes give an unnecessary draft into my foot and they’re cut so wide that a shoebox would be more comfortable. My pair of Crocs had a lifespan of 30 minutes that day, was worn once during Opening Day 2009 at Fenway Park and now collects dust underneath my bed.
Today, good news out of the Washington Post for myself and fellow anti-Croc fashionistas. The trend is over. Tired. Dead. And the company is broke. Long live the standby flip-flop as the summer shoe of choice.
-M
I gave in a year ago when I found a pair of Boston Red Sox themed Crocs in a random boutique on Washington Street. I had on the most uncomfortable pair of ballet flats and my feet were screaming for anything that wouldn’t pinch or blister. I paid the inflated twenty-something dollars for the two red and blue pieces of rubber in hopes of comfort. I soon learned that every single one of my friends that said they wore them for comfort lied. The footbed is prickly, the holes give an unnecessary draft into my foot and they’re cut so wide that a shoebox would be more comfortable. My pair of Crocs had a lifespan of 30 minutes that day, was worn once during Opening Day 2009 at Fenway Park and now collects dust underneath my bed.
Today, good news out of the Washington Post for myself and fellow anti-Croc fashionistas. The trend is over. Tired. Dead. And the company is broke. Long live the standby flip-flop as the summer shoe of choice.
-M
