Crocs: The ugly footling
The garish clogs that feel as if you're walking on a sponge, inspire either love or loathing.
from the August 22, 2007 edition
Page 2 of 3
Foot comfort, apparently, appeals to a broad demographic. Fans include celebrity chef Mario Batali, actor Jack Nicholson, and country-music stars Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. Recently, President Bush was photographed sporting black Crocs, which he paired with black socks and shorts. In nations as diverse as Israel and Iceland, 1 in 4 people own a pair of the shoes.
The Crocs phenomenon is not purely a love-fest, however. Detractors abound, and they aren't diplomatic with their diatribes. On Manolo's Shoe Blog (http://shoeblogs.com/), Crocs are termed "the hot trend in footwear for the lazy person." And on ihatecrocs.com, Vincenzo Ravina and Kate Leth devote an entire website "to the elimination of Crocs and those who think their excuses for wearing them are viable."
Ask Mr. Ravina why he finds Crocs so objectionable, and then take a breath. "They are exceedingly ugly. They are chunky, luridly colored, perforated, and overall, an eyesore," he replies. "They are to your eyes what second-hand smoke is to your lungs."
Ravina, a college student from Halifax, Nova Scotia, scoffs at testaments to the comfort of Crocs. "My bathrobe is comfortable," he says. "But I don't wear it to the supermarket. You have to respect other people's aesthetic."
He and fellow blogger Ms. Leth have clearly struck a chord with their website, which they created a year ago on a whim and now gets at least 1,000 visitors a day. "I didn't expect it to take off the way it did," he says. They also do a brisk business selling T-shirts and buttons, with logos like "Friends don't let friends wear Crocs," and more simply, "I hate Crocs."
Even in Boulder, where you can buy Crocs at the grocery store along with celery and soy milk, there's something of a backlash. "I don't have any friends who wear Crocs," says Rachel Losowski, a style-conscious senior at the University of Colorado. "They're just really bad. Really weird." As for claims to their comfort, she winces. "When I go out, I want to look nice, not comfortable," she says.
Once, she was out with friends and saw an attractive male heading her way. Then she spotted Crocs on his feet. "I said to him, 'I thought you were cute, but then I saw your shoes!' " she says, laughing.
But at the Pedestrian Shops – the largest Crocs dealer in Colorado – sales of the garish shoes remain brisk. "We sell a couple of thousand pairs every month," says Richard Polk, at his sprawling store on Boulder's postcard-pretty Pearl Street Mall. "We sell more Crocs on a summer day by noon than we do other brands all year long."
Four years ago, Mr. Polk was the first shoe retailer to sell Crocs. Almost immediately, they were a hot item. In 2005, he built an addition to the store to neatly display 5,000 pairs along the walls, gleaming like jelly beans in jars. Polk, who's been in the shoe business since 1969, also walks the talk: Today, he's wearing a worn pair of navy blue Crocs, along with khaki shorts and a black polo shirt. "I wear them most days. I wear them everywhere. I even have some black ones that I call my 'dress Crocs,' " he says.

















