Holy Croc-a-mole!

Let’s face it:  95% of us have at least one pair of Crocs or at one point we were dying to have a pair.  The other 5% of us are liars.

Crocs were all the rage just a few years ago.  Once relegated to boaters, professionals like nurses who were on their feet all day, and Japanese business school students, Crocs became the must-have of the season!  Some say Britney Spears sparked the madness, but in any event, for $30, most of us could afford this fabulously foamy accessory.

I remember getting my first pair of Crocs a few years ago.  Comfy on the plane, they were a savior on my flight to South America.  They protected my feet when I had to use a skanky shower, or saved time when I needed to step out quickly from a hotel to pick up laundry or to grab an empañada while I traipsed through Argentina.

Well, the luster wore off.  For me, it was when the traction on my brown pair was gone and they got too slippery.  For others it was when they looked down at their feet and realized they didn’t go well with a Hugo Boss suit or that Tina Turk summer dress.  Meanwhile, the company became a victim of its own success.  We all got a pair or two or three, and guess what?  They last forever, so there was no reason to replace them.

So the company has lost $185 million last year, laid off 2000 workers, saw its stock price tank from $70 to three bucks a share, and his seen its product line come close to extinction . . . following the sad journey of Pepsi Clear, Cabbage Patch Kids, and the pet rock.

Now here’s what really bothers me:  what do you do when you want to get rid of this antimicrobial resin footwear?  Well, no one really seems to know.  They may be recycled with plastic containers by your community garbage service—or not.  I saw a suggestion to tie them to a tree to scare birds away from your garden—fine for bright colors, but my brown pair would not do the trick.  Or, perhaps, you could use them as a garden pot:  if anyone tries this, do let me know . . . but do you want a Chia-foot in your yard?  Maybe we’ll see them on the feet of an African child, sporting them with their “New England Patriots 2008 Super Bowl Champions” t-shirts. If you live in Boulder, you can drop them off at Crocs headquarters, where they are shredded and find new lives as outdoor flooring.

Sadly, the company may disappear, but their legacy will remain regardless:  in your local landfill along with other useless items, leaving us wondering why we bought them—and if we really needed them in the first place.