Yesterday, while putting on my glittery and ostensibly “classy” but rather uncomfortable Manolo Blahnik heels, I suddenly mused,
“why do we inflict so much torture on our feet”?
Why can’t I for once go to a party, wearing my oh so comfortable Crocs? It’s not like I can pull off Kate Moss’ saunter either way. So, this is exactly what I did, I went to the party wearing my good old rubber crocs.
I probably, well not probably, I’m rather sure, I stood out like a sore thumb, got a lot of side glances by the bystanders and of course, was a topic of amusement for my friends. But what did it really matter? If anything, it fuelled my fire even more. Moreover, I was feeling comfortable in my shoes, well, in this case, I literally was comfortable in my shoes. Also, in many ways, I felt chicer than ever. And the best part was, I discovered, I can very nearly swagger like Mick Jagger; a little exaggeration never hurts, does it?
The Rage Of Crocs
Crocs made its debut on the runway in London Fashion Week, 2016 when a stalwart designer like Christopher Kane made his beautiful coquettish models glide down the runway, not in stilettos, not in platforms, not even Oxfords or Mary Janes, but in rather comfy and homely crocs.
Christopher Kane turned those rubbery, ridiculous looking slippers into a dream with fashionable colours and embossed with myriad crystals and embellished stones.
It was not the last time when high-end fashion flirted with something so unprecedented and bizarre.
The next year, Demna Gavasalia, Balenciaga’s designer in a turn of events revolutionized crocs, not just by embossing gemstones and sparkle as hitherto Kane had done, but by turning them into a cartoonish platform version.
The aforementioned makes us wonder that when even the likes of Balenciaga and Cristopher Kane can make their models wear crocs, which are known to be pragmatic, comfy, unisex and unbreakable, then we are your everyday Jane Doe.
At the end of the day, I mused, I’ve been torturing my feet in vain, especially now that I’ve gotten a better deal, and well, as for the ill-concealed snickers, they’re bound to cease eventually, and even if they do not, I still get to swagger like Jagger, breaking the norms, which I believe is a better deal.