Crocs, A Hit

Just when I thought there was no footgear on the face of the earth that repelled me more than the flimsy hideousness known as flip flops, along came the even more cringe-inducers known as Crocs (slingback variety). I don’t know which lamebrain overexposed celebrity started wearing these gumdrop-colored rubbery clog-type atrocities a month or so ago, thus opening the door for countless celebrity-sniffing wannabes and assorted brain-free followers to start wearing them too, but oh god, already I’m sick of them. I hated them even a couple of years ago, when someone I knew bought them and showed them to me in email and I pretended to think they were cute. But back then, they weren’t ubiquitous, and my exposure was limited to the number of times I opened that particular email.
I’m willing to concede that they can be cute if you’re three and you’re learning how to identify primary colors. But if your age is greater than your shoe size, you should not even consider thinking about wearing them for the nano-est of nanoseconds unless you work behind the scenes in the kitchen of a restaurant or in front of the crowds at the circus. And if you’re a man (chefs and clowns notwithstanding) and wearing them, you have to expect me to not respect you at all.
That is all.