Stupid Fucking Shoes*

I hate it when logic and medical science get in the way of a good rant.

For a few weeks now, the cult of the crocs has been insiduously creeping into the public consciousness, via the medium of celebrity magazines and those hideous, soul-sapping "lifestyle" channels up at the end of the Sky range. First impressions? They look pretty fucking stupid. The influence of celeb culture has finally gone a step too far. The Ugg boot, I was prepared to forgive. They look sort of cool (unless you are Sienna Miller, in which case buy some new shoes, start eating and stop being so completely, yet indefinably annoying), and don't have too much going on in the way of upping your Retard Factor. Except by now we're all supposed to have stopped wearing them, and now the hideous wave of retro eighties fashion seems to be ebbing slightly (and nobody is more grateful than I am. Not that I've been wearing that stuff, you understand. I'm old enough to have worn legwarmers and skinny jeans the first time round, and I can't imagine I'd look any better with the benefit of twenty-odd years on me) the door is open for a new, ridiculous trend.

And nothing is more suited to fill that niche than crocs. Like clogs for the sort of person who requires a padded helmet on social occasions, they come in every colour of the rainbow, presumably so you can look stupid while co-ordinating with any outfit. I understand the concept. It's all fine. If you work in a kitchen, or a hospital, or go sailing, then they're absolutely perfect. Waterproof, microbicidal, comfortable - just perfect for damp, humid conditions. Fine by me. However, what the likes of Teri Hatcher need to understand (and let's face it, are you going to take style tips from a woman so terminably daffy that she's forgotten that people need to eat to stay alive?) is that if you flaunt a pair while en route from your trailer to the set, you just look like someone got you drunk and sold you some shoes.

And they're everywhere. It's like a competition to see who has the worst taste, and everyone on lists D and down seems to be winning. And it's spreading. I saw someone in a pair (a bright pink pair, for the record) at my local Tesco the other day. She didn't look as if she'd come straight from theatre, or a yacht race, or the kitchens at Nobu or anything, but I could be mistaken. To her credit, she was looking slightly uncomfortable, but that might have had something to do with the incredulous looks she was getting, and the whispers of "what-has-she-got-on-her-feet?" that were following her round the store. I hope it was a lesson to her. I hope it was a lesson to all of you. I mean, if Reveal magazine suddenly started insisting that armbands and a sailor hat were the thing to wear this autumn, just because Cameron Diaz and then Jodie Marsh had been spotted out in them, would you adopt the look? Would you?

If you would, then we have nothing more to say to each other. And if you come to my house wearing crocs, I will ask you to leave them on the doorstep and then, while you are admiring my new patio, I will burn them, and then run them over, and then burn them again.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

* Alright, alright. Unless you are a surgeon, or a sailor, or a waitress, or a nurse, or a lifeguard, or a chef, or have bunions, or a bad back, or plantar fasciitis, or any other reason why they might be quite good from, you know, an orthopaedic point of view. They still look fucking stupid though and so, by definition, do you.