Croc Attack

“So, did you miss my Crocs?” is the first question my cousin asked me when I returned from a 10 day holiday to Australia. I was more shocked than surprised with his question. I had just been for an exciting, one of a kind, lifetime experience trip, to a country that I always thought was too far out to travel to, and here is a man who, on my return, wants to know if I missed a pair of flip-flops, rather than trying to extract interesting and juicy gossip about the trip. Well, thinking about it now, I don’t blame Mr. Crocs (as we shall refer to him henceforth). Nothing has been dearer to his feet than this pair of blue and grey thong-strapped bulky flip-flops. Thank god that he doesn’t wear the ugly looking clogs that come in every colour in the palette.

I definitely don’t have anything personal against Crocs as a brand or as a product. Even if I did, and I said I wouldn’t want to be seen near anyone wearing a pair, I think I’d have to stay off the streets, especially in this rainy, wet season called monsoon. There are a gazillion people, proudly cat-walking the streets in a pair of either the original or its pseudo brothers and sisters. And to make matters worse, there are people like Mr. Crocs who will wear it to house parties, lounges and even upmarket restaurants in five-star hotels! Now, this is where the whole problem starts. I myself am a big promoter of the flip-flops, open footwear surge that street fashion is going through right now, but there are places where the attire is acceptable and where it is a complete no-no. Flip-flops, sandals and chappals are a part of street fashion for a reason: That is where they should be. Okay, with some leverage to the meaning of street fashion, it’s acceptable if you’re going to walk in with those into a mall (unless you are shopping at Louis Vuitton or Montblanc), a movie hall, a play, a coffee shop (and I mean your by the street, hangout ones), and lets say even a fast food chain like McDonald’s and KFC. But if you’re going to be seen at restaurants, people’s houses, the lobby of five-star hotels and clubs, it is a better idea to cover up your toes and heel. Yes, I say heel as well, so that you don’t cheat by wearing footwear that are covered from the front and open at the back.

During my sojourn in Australia, I realised that the country is the perfect place for Mr. Crocs to live in. Not because of the large number of croc parks Oz boasts of, though he would fit in perfectly there, but also because the only dressing sense that the country knows is casual. While at dinner in the fine dining restaurant of the five-star resort that I was staying at in Palm Cove, I was shocked to see people wearing flip-flops and even shorts and a T-shirt. Are you serious, had they lost their bags on transit! I looked around once again, and noticed that the only people dressed the way they should in a fine-dining restaurant were sitting at my table. We were a bunch of Indian journalists visiting the country, and though I suddenly started feeling a little over-dressed, I was surprised that this time it was us Indians who had got it right. I mentally allowed myself to believe that this was the case only because Palm Cove is a tiny little beach town, packed with vacationers. Little did I know then that I would be proved wrong again at Cairns and the Gold Coast. So much so that my dinner jacket, which was teamed with a pair of dress denims and a white shirt, felt out of place at the restaurant of the elegant upmarket Palazzo Versace hotel.

Pondering a little over my cousin’s question, I realised that the one thing I definitely didn’t miss while away was Mr. Crocs’ crocs. To my pity, not only was one of the girls in my group carrying a similar pair, in the same colour combination, but everywhere I looked in Australia, people were dressed in nothing but board shorts and flip-flops. My only saving grace was that Mr. Crocs wasn’t travelling with me, who’s recently threatened me that he’d wear his pair with a business suit! I really hope I am not around to witness this crime.