Crocs are, all snobbery aside, a great outdoor shoe. You can slip them on and hose them off.
See In Defense of Crocs, the Perfect Outdoor Shoe. I saw that the same week my first pair of Crocs arrived in the mail.
“And despite how ugly they are, Crocs serve a vital purpose during these times: they’re perfect for the outdoors. They’re waterproof and easy to clean. They float. They’re cushy and bright. During quarantine I’ve slipped on my Crocs to build a chicken coop and togo on family walks. I’ve worn them while picking up dog poop in the yard and while washing the cars. I’ve even worn them to get groceries and to the hardware store. Nothing matters anymore.”
I got mine so that I’d stop borrowing Crocs of other people when we went to the farm on the weekend. Perfect for the dash to the hot tub.
Mine are even lined with fleece. They’re polar Crocs for winter wear!
And they are leopard print. I love that the dangerously seductive power of leoprad print has made its way onto Crocs. It’s part of the contradictory nature of leopard print itself. I especially love that leopard print and bisexuality are now so entangled that you can buy merch in bipride coloured leopard print.
Although I love leopard print, I won’t-except in jest–attempt to match my Crocs with my outfit. That’s my polar fleece suit jacket which looks like an actual suit jacket on Zoom but is really all warm and soft and stretchy in real life.
And I definitely won’t wear the Crocs and the jacket and this mask!
