Okay, it’s time for another confession. While I am a far cry from a fashionista, as I typically let trends pass me right by, keeping more to a classic style (read between the lines here: this voucher queen is frugal!), I just can’t stand it when people wear CROCS out in public. There, I’ve said it.
You know the ones – those round-toed, plastic clogs with all the holes perforated on top and the plastic strap around the back of the heel that some children have taken to bedazzling with little pins? Maybe it’s the flashback to the jelly shoes of the eighties, to which I had a similar allergic reaction; it’s hard to say. I mean, if people want to wear them at home or in their garden, by all means – I get that they are undoubtedly comfortable and water-resistant. But, much like pyjamas, some things are simply not meant to be worn outside the confines of your own property.
Well, after all my rantings about these landfilling plastic concoctions, today, I got schooled. Apparently, CROCS have evolved. I mean, not exactly in the same way that human beings have, you know, from amoebas and monkeys and whatnot, but CROCS have managed to expand their repertoire. True story! I actually stepped foot inside the mother ship – the gigantic store on Queen West, near Spadina – and did not immediately burst into flames, as any reasonable person might expect from all these years of blasphemy.
Who knew CROCS were so much like rabbits, and had multiplied into so many different colours and styles? I even found a pair of wedges that would pass for regular footwear, without the telltale ugh-factor. And – drumroll please – I actually bought them! But it didn’t stop there… I further rose to the challenge, and wore them outside my house, in public! And the world did not collapse unto itself and implode, as any reasonable being may have anticipated.
The strangest part was that they were both somewhat stylish and comfortable at the same time, which, as all women know, put them into that divine intervention segment of female footwear. I even showed them to a group of girlfriends who had gathered that evening to bid farewell to one of the gang who was making the move to the nether-regions known as suburban, chic, Oakville, and they were all as surprised as I had been to learn the deep dark secret of their origin.
So the real question here is, will I wear them again in the company of strangers? The surprising (at least to me) answer is, yes! I am no longer ashamed to admit it: my name is LaLa, and I own a pair of CROCS (keeping in mind that they are not of the classic clog variety – I’m afraid some gulfs are simply too wide to bridge… As we all know, that would be right up there with wearing hip waders to work, which, unless you’re in the fishing or disposal business or you’re one of the guys from Mythbusters, is just inappropriate). Any questions?