What a croc of

I wonder about some people’s fashion choices. The capital offense, Croc shoes. I’ve noticed that even celebraties embrace their right to parade around in the whimsical  clogs. Take top chef Mario Batali, a man who could have diamonds on the soles of his shoes. To my dismay, he favors sporting Crocs, the fruit colored foot gear. Maybe they remind him of pasta strainers?

Do I really need to say anything?

I don’t understand why anyone in their right mind would wear Crocs; or why the Colorado based company isn’t bankrupt. Far from taking a financial stumble, Crocs grossed over $1 billion in 2011 and project to surpass that number this year. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I think those wearing Crocs are leaving behind an ugly footprint.

For those not familiar with Crocs, I applaud you! Crocs are rubber shoes that make your feet stink. Really gross. Anyone wearing Crocs should throw them into the recycling bin! Or, gift them to a dog, as they would make great chew toys.

Please, don’t try to pass Crocs off as gardening slippers! With all those holes, how are your feet protected from getting dirty? And don’t use the alibi that they are comfortable. So are Jimmy Choos.

Do you want to know what’s worse? Seriously, the story gets better! So called, “designers” have expanded the Croc line and now they have boots, jelly flats, and even sandals. A little something for everyone with bad taste. This makes me so sad. They violate me. It just seems so, ugly American. I’m not mad at anyone … but disappointed. You fools wearing Crocs have let me down and I expect change! Quick, go to Nordstrom and redeem yourself with some shopping therapy.

I’m certain Croc lovers haven’t moved from the couch. Not only is Nordstrom not on the Croc lovers agenda, they’re probably windexing those rubber soles for a weekend date.

My only alternative is to contact Yoko Ono. Ono just launched her recent art project in support of Occupy Wall Street which involves volunteers who write their personal wishes for peace onto scraps of paper. These wishes are tied to trees in Zuccotti Park, located in lower Manhattan.

I read a few of those well wishers thoughts: “I wish for equality for all and an end to tyranny and poverty,” while another had a simpler message: “I wish everyday was swimming.” My wish Yoko, “Make love, not crocs!” Now stick that on a tree and let’s hope that Americans march out into the world wearing some snazzy shoes!

A tip to Mr. Batali, Dansko makes classic kitchen clogs that will always look chic. Just go there, for the love of Mike!