Crocs infiltrated our family as grandchildren began to appear. These goofy—often referred to as “ugly”—shoes were a novelty . . . a fad . . . a fashion flash in the pan. They were perfect for non-fashioned sense children. They were colorful and easy to wear. Perfect for children. No sensible, respectable, self-conscious adult would be caught in a pair of Crocs. Especially me.
It wasn’t long before Crocs became a staple in the family with the adults soon sporting them. They’d laugh when explaining that Crocs were comfortable and convenient. The perfect shoe to bum around in. Yet it seemed that most of society looked down upon them and deemed them to be “ugly”.
I resisted . . . resisted for years.
As you know, curiosity killed the car. At a family gathering my oldest son offered me a brand-new pair of basic black Crocs. They were too small for his feet, and they were mine if I wanted them. Of course, I hemmed and hawed around accepting the gift. Finally, I accepted them at the urging of my grandchildren and adult children. It was a tough decision because it moved me from the realm of ridiculing those who wore them into being one of “them”. Too embarrassed to jump right into them, I shoved them in my suitcase until a more opportune time would arise for me to don the “ugly” shoes.
It was probably a month before I started to wear them in the privacy of my own home. Wow! What an experience! They were comfortable. They were convenient. Easy to slip on and off. They became my “go to” shoes in the evening, on the weekends, around the house and in the yard. And . . . they were cool. The first time I wore them around my grandkids my status as an old adult was elevated to the “cool” level in their eyes. Grandparents take whatever accolades they can get. Grandchildren are a tough audience.
It has been several years since I joined the Croc cult. That pair of plain black Crocs served me well, but they were past their prime. Worn out. I started considering getting a new pair, but I am cheap. But it is one thing to jump into a cult or fad by invitation, and another to forcefully buy oneself in. So cheap worked for me and I decided to wear them until they disintegrated. Others may challenge people to pry their fingers off the trigger when they die . . . I was willing to go to the grave with my Crocs. You’d have to pry them off my cold, dead feet to get me to get rid of them. Yet I longed for a new pair. I considered getting knockoffs, but once you have had the best nothing else counts. Basically, I just longed for a new pair.
Christmas morning my wife gifted me and the original culprit—my oldest son—with a pair of bright red (University of Nebraska red) Crocs! Much flashier than my basic black pair. I am not much of a fashion plate or fan of flashy, but my wife had me . . . bright Nebraska red. Plus, she threw in a couple of charms to decorate the shores . . . a Nebraska “N” (for knowledge, you know) and several of my favorite Cornhusker sports (volleyball and football) to bling up the shoes. The shoes were way out of my league and comfort zone . . . they were too flashy.
I resisted for a day or two before secretly jumping in with two feet. Biting the bullet, I threw my old black Crocs in the trash and watched the garbage truck haul them away. A tear streamed down my eyes and cheeks. I mourned the passing of my black Crocs as I fully plunged into the community and cult of Croc wearers. It is one thing to wear them to please others when received as a gift, it is another to long for and receiving a second pair. It is crossing the line and becoming a full-fledged adherent to the cause. There is no escape. It is difficult to not notice bright red clog-looking, blingy-looking footwear. Clown shoes . . . Ronald McDonald style.
And that is okay. As the grandkids say, “I’m cool.”
Crocs are pretty cool. Since their inception in 2002 by three friends who wanted to create a boat shoe, they have become a worldwide billion-dollar business. They created this Dutch clog inspired shoes to be light weight, gripping soles, that are waterproof, and foot protecting. Built for land or sea, thus the name “Crocs”. Since their beginning they have sold over 720 million pairs worldwide.
Did you know that on every pair of Crocs there are 13 holes on the top? The purpose is more than aesthetics, but for ventilation. In 2005 the company bought Jibbitz which creates all those charms that wearers adorn their shoes with to personalize them.
In 2026 the company expects to top five billion dollars in sales. Though they make millions of dollars they donate millions of shoes globally to health care workers through their Crocs Care program.
In their first advertising campaign they proclaimed, “Ugly can be beautiful.” They’ve been running with it ever since. From the edges of society and fashion sense, Crocs have claimed its place among the human race. Though I was late to the race, I secured my spot at the Croc table. Bashfully I admit that I am one of “them”.
Though I resisted for years, once I gave those ugly, goofy clown shoes a chance . . . I was hooked. I have joined the cult. At my age I may look silly, sporting a bright red blingy pair of Crocs on my feet . . . even cliché . . . but I am content in the comfort they provide my feet. At my age, if my feet are happy, I am happy. Besides . . . my grandkids think I am “cool". Who am I to argue? Kids know “cool” when they see it even if I think I look like Ronald McDonald. Long live Crocs!
