My daughter Thea is a stern and judgmental teen (sounds like a tautology, hey? Teen morality, properly understood, is as narrow as the Inquisition's) and her opinion is quickly stated. Any fashion that is embraced by both babies and old people alike can not be stylish. Sounds correct, doesn't it. No way I will wear them, she says. They are without doubt the ugliest thing ever put on feet.
She is talking, of course, about crocs, those colourful plastic cloggy -- but I don't have to describe them, do I. (Like saying: A hot dog: you know, a frankfurter placed on a split roll ... or The Beatles: you know, a popular band from the 1960s ...) You know what crocs are. I agree with my daughter in her assessment of the shoe. Ugly. I do not own a pair, had no intention of ever putting them on ... and then this weekend, staying at a friend's cottage, I had to get something from the car, and there was a pair of crocs sitting by the back door. And I (forgive me, daughter, for I have sinned -- a fashion crime is still a crime, even if it is committed in the dark in a rural community) slipped them on and dashed down the drive. I was back in a few seconds, but the brief encounter changed my opinion. Crocs are ... easy. Easy on and off, easy wearing.
Hmm. Makes you think. If everyone likes something, maybe it's likeable. Maybe it's filling a need, striking a chord. I mean, I'll eat a hot dog. I'll listen to the Beatles. I won't rush out to buy a pair of crocs, but that has nothing to do with fashion sense (heaven help me) and everything to do with inertia.