Converted to Crocs

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OK – I admit it. They’re ugly, but I love them.

CrocsThey say it’s a sign that a woman’s given up the day that she puts comfort before fashion.

Well, it’s all bollocks, really, isn’t it? Fashion, I mean. It is theoretically possible to have one without the other, but it’s also true that fashion is about doing without comfort, by and large, from the medieval escarpin to the Tudor ruff to the tight-laced corset. And it’s true that as I get older, I value comfort more and more. 

Nevtherless, my heart absolutely sank when my podiatrist ordered me into Crocs. 

"But they’re so ugly," I protested. 

"But they’re designed for your feet," he said. "They’re the only shoes that are."

Unlike Uggs, which can be attractive in their cuddly way and which I defend to the hilt, Crocs really have nothing to recommend them in the looks department. They are resolutely ugly. With that in mind, and swearing that I’d only wear them in the house, I ordered a navy pair as being the most unobtrusive (they go with my jeans), and apologised to the DH for the fact that I’d now be clumping round the house like a duck. 

It took a long time for them to arrive, since for some unknown reason, they took a trip to the Cayman Islands before arriving back with the vendor and being sent on to me. And when they arrived, I thought there must be some mistake.

They seemed enormous. They were far longer than my feet. And wide too. The sizing was right, but I was so uncertain that I phoned a friend and she told me the sizing on Crocs is now all over the place, since they started making them in different factories. She herself wears Crocs in three different sizes and they all fit. 

It was the DH who thought to log on and see if Crocs are meant to be this large – and he found that they are. You’re meant to have a finger’s width of space either side of your foot, and at the end, but given that, I couldn’t see how they were going to stay on my feet. Still, since they had come all this way, it seemed only fair to give them a try, and I duly put them on. 

At first they felt extremely peculiar, like boats. But as my feet moulded the soles into shape, I entirely forgot I was wearing them. After three days, I was a convert, which is something I thought I would never be.

I suppose I have made that discovery that everyone else who wears them has had – that wearing Crocs is like going barefoot, that it makes you feel like a child again. I have not thought about my pronating left foot since buying them. They weigh nothing. I can run and downstairs, I can drive, I can walk around the garden in the wet grass and be dry minutes later. I am no longer in pain.

I admit, also, that I am wearing them even outside the house, much to the amusement of my friends (Crocs wearers all). They said I would cave, and cave I have. 

Oh well. How the mighty are fallen. Can’t wait to get another pair. 


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