The title of this post alone will probably drive away many a Google-searcher. Croc-wearing seems to be an emotionally-charged conversation--almost as charged as which way you
hang your toilet paper. There are Croc-haters and Croc-lovers, and not much in between.
I bought my first pair of Crocs in 2006. I was working that summer for Edmonton's
Green Shack program, and Crocs were so new that they hadn't yet been added to the list of "unacceptable footwear" in the City's Parks and Recreation dress code. They were--for that summer--"closed-toed shoes" that I could wear without socks and in the water. They were bright blue, to match my City of Edmonton T-shirt.
That fall, I bought a salmon-pink pair that became my indoor shoes for the kindergarten I was working in. They were incredibly comfortable, and easy to slide on and off if my hands were full with bags, equipment, or a child. I also took that pair to Mexico. They were perfect for day trips that called for sturdier (but sockless) footwear than flip-flops.
Sometime shortly after that, I purchased a pair of chocolate-brown Avon-brand imitation Crocs. They had the same Croc shape and similar foam rubber material, but no holes. They were also accented with some faux-suede. They were well-loved, too. They were perfect for the days where I wanted the comfort of sneakers with my outfit, but couldn't pull off actual sneakers for one reason or another.
As I spent less time playing on the floor with children and more time in an office working with adults, my
wardrobe changed somewhat, including the styles of shoes in my closet. I didn't throw out my Crocs (okay, I threw out the blue ones, cuz I don't actually wear blue), but the nature and frequency of wear did change.
When I moved into my house, the salmon-pink pair became (and still are) my basement shoes. It's cold on the feet down there! ...They sit at the top of the basement stairs near the back door. As such, they also double as a quick pair of shoes that I can slip on if I need to run out and grab something from the garage, or take the recycling out, or what have you.
Then--last year--Disneyworld. I knew my feet would not appreciate walking around for 10-12 hours a day in the cheap flip-flops that I owned. I needed something new. I wanted shoes that would stand up to that high level of activity, without spending a fortune, and without having to wear socks in a 30C (85F) environment. I remembered how well my pink Crocs had held up in Mexico, and decided to go that route. There is
a store in Edmonton that sells nothing but Crocs; I went there.
In the five years that had passed since I'd last purchased Crocs, their line had definitely expanded. I'd seen evidence of some of this on people's feet in the past years, but hadn't really realized how much more they had to offer besides the classic-style Croc. Flats, boots, sandals, wedge heels, slippers, Mary Jane's, loafers... In the end, I bought a classic-style pair in espresso brown (with latte-coloured trim). Additionally, I bought a pair of their flip-flops (also in the latte and espresso colours).
In Florida, my niece and nephew developed blisters from their newly-purchased, orthotic-conscious Keens in under 24-hours, rendering a side-trip to Wal-Mart to purchase $20 sneakers for the remainder of the trip. I, on the other hand, walked around three different amusement parks in my Croc flip-flops* all week long without a single blister (no achy feet, either). It was fantastic.
I swear by the flip-flops.
(I swear by the Crocs, too.)
Now, don't misunderstand. I am certainly not an "all Crocs, all the time" kind of person. I own flats, kitten heels, boots... My preferred daily footwear is actually my pair of sneakers.
But do I love my Crocs? Yes.
Do I get why many people don't? Yes.
Do [I feel] my Crocs have an appropriate place in my wardrobe? Yes.
Are my feet happy? Yes.
* Say "Croc flip-flops" ten times fast, I dare you.
