Saturday, March 26, 2011

My Crocs.

For my birthday this year my parents offered to buy me a pair of Crocs - a style of shoe that I've always thought should be worn by a garden gnome or at best while watering the garden with a garden hose. Essentially, that they should be kept to the confines of garden-themed things. This is in reference to the "original" Croc, which has a clog-like appearance.

So when I was faced with the option of choosing my very own pair, I was a bit skeptical. I knew of their rave reviews for comfort and the larger selection of styles that now existed. But they still seemed so ... "googily" in my head (as in things that are round and bulbous and squishy). Nevertheless, I had to admit that I kind of liked the idea of having a pair of my own to clomp around in (you can't really walk in a shoe that large so much as you can clomp). Upon entering the Croc store (yes, they even have a whole store dedicated to just Crocs) I was overwhelmed by the options. Everywhere I looked there were googily shoes and googily boots. I eventually focused on the flats and then I saw them. The Croc equivalent of a jelly shoe.

If you're a girl who grew up in the late 80s early 90s you'll know what a jelly shoe is. I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on them. It was in the locker room after swimming lessons. We still lived in Canada so I can't have been more than four, but I remember seeing another little girl putting her jelly shoes on after class and asking my mom if I could get a pair. "No, they're made of plastic."
That was always the barrier between me and shoes - that they were "man made" as my mom called it. Man made meant anything other than leather, and leather shoes they must be or no shoes at all.I know this came down to a matter of quality over style (and rightly so), but the seed of want for those jelly shoes was planted nonetheless. It would be over two decades before I was given the golden opportunity to place on my feet those precious replicas; replicas which would be suggested, approved and paid for than none other than my leather shoe-loving mother, God bless her.

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