I used to be a Crocs guy. They were my casual shoe of choice for a long time. By the time I moved out here to this hilltop for retirement, coming on five years ago now, my shoe wardrobe consisted of a whole array of $450 Allen Edmonds work shoes of all kinds. I would say I was 70% into black with the others all oxblood maroon. I found those colors were the most appealing to me as accessories and I had the same percentage of belts to match. I felt it made for a nice touch with my daily suits of navy and grey (in all manner of plain, pinstripe, windowpane, herringbone and light plaid). I had perhaps 30 suits and a dozen active pairs of Allen Edmonds (they really never wear out completely since the company has a program to refurbish old pairs at a sort of have price cost, so you can keep them alive almost forever). I haven’t worn any Allen Edmonds shoe in a long time now, but I still have perhaps 6 pairs that have not found their way to Goodwill.
Obviously, I can attribute the waning of Allen Edmonds in the life of my feet to my retirement from the active business world. Even when I have depositions or hearing to attend, I am usually traveling to or driving to them and I tend to wear my Cole Hahn driving loafers, which have always been my preferred casual shoe. But at home, I was a dedicated Crocs aficionado. When I moved here and started my hilltop gardening program, I went out every day in my Crocs and proceeded to get my feet absolutely filthy, even though the Crocs were comfortable and convenient…and worked quite well overall in the garden. it didn’t bother me that my kids liked to make fun of me for wearing Crocs. That all sort of added to the image I like to maintain with my kids as the iconoclastic, generationally consistent Baby Boomer. I reject the notion that I ever owned or wore a bagel suit (a nylon sweat suit ensemble), but I embraced the fact that I wore Crocs all the time. At the peak, I probably had a dozen pairs ranging from basic to fancy leatherized ones. And then, a funny thing happened…I lost interest in Crocs.
It started with the dirty feet problem caused by the air holes and open backs in the Crocs. I felt I needed something more substantial for my gardening efforts that hade gravitated to bigger project work like building the Hobbit House. I found some good work shoes and once I was distancing from daily Croc wearing, I needed something to relax in since my work shoes are decidedly meant to stay outside and not be worn through the house. Their big tread holds dirt, which then finds its ways all over the house. Somehow I stumbled onto a pair of Olukai’s. Olukai is a Hawaiian brand of casual beach shoes that are almost slipper-like. They have a solid white or beige band of rubber and then a lightweight top that is a slip-in with elastic sides that always feels light and cool. It’s like the old slip-on canvas sneakers only upgraded with more modern materials for the upper part. My initial pair was a breathable synthetic canvas in tan. Since then I have expanded to navy, dark grey and even a blue boat shoe pattern. Then I noticed and bought a pair of Olukai’s with woven leather uppers, first in chocolate, then tan and then grey/green. I now have nine pairs of Olukai’s and have passed the first important milestone in that I have bought a replacement pair of the chocolate leather woven ones since the weave is delicate enough to come undone if you do something wild like ride a motorcycle with them and toe-up the gear shift.
If you looked at my shoe rack now, you would find the top two shelves dominated entirely by various Olukai’s. They are my daily go-to shoe of choice, whether with shorts or long pants. I have a few pairs of Cole Hahn driving loafers for travel, one or two pairs of Samuel Hubbard shoes (a brand that is casual and fits me well), for more “structured” casual, and my bottom rows of the old faithful but vestigial Allen Edmonds with their spit polish. What you will not find on my shoe rack are the light brown shoes with the purposely darker brown polished toes that are too elongated and that young men these days like to wear with any color suit (usually tailored to be uncomfortably tight). They are decidedly not to my liking. I have a pair of Kizik’s sneakers that have replaced my old sandard New Balance’s. I tried Kim’s favored Hokas, but could simply not get over the massive width of the things. I have 4X-Wide feet as it is and do not need blocks of rubber protruding out on all sides to make my feet look any more clownish than they naturally do. My Hokas were actually so big (comfortable, but very big) that I would almost trip over them when walking. And what you will not find at all in my shoe rack are Crocs. I actually still have a few pairs and I do occasionally wear them around the house and garden, but more and more rarely. They are in an out-of-slight cubby of the kind that sooner or later when I am cleaning out my closet one of these times, I will remind myself that it has been X years since I’ve worn them, so off they go to Goodwill. Given the plastic material Crocs are made of, I’m sure they never decompose and are with our civilization for many years to come.
As I have written about often and from every angle I can imagine, I am trying to reposition my life into fuller and fuller retirement. My shoes are a reflection of that effort. I’m quite happy with the balance I have struck for the moment, but I also know that time tends to change all of that and that five years means more and more as I age and change comes about in greater ways and with a higher and higher degree of certainty. I am certain I like Olukai’s more than Crocs. It’s funny, I saw a trailer for the new movie coming out called Conclave, about turnover in the Vatican, and there was a quote which struck me as particularly poignant and relevant to this issue. The Cardinal responsible for the conclave to select a new pope says that the only thing he fears is certainty, since the lack of it is what makes faith so necessary. It’s actually a very insightful comment that strikes me as quite true. The good news for organized religion is that the world remains an uncertain place, but I have to wonder whether the old sense that we get more focused on faith as we approach our end seems a bit contradictory since the certainty of the process and especially the ultimate conclusion thereof is as high as it gets. It makes me wonder if we aren’t asymptotically bound to have less and less faith as we age. I put a great deal of faith in Olukai’s at this point, but I’m guessing that borders on sacrilege. My soles should have little bearing on my soul, but then again, you never know for sure. I bet that when I go out, someone is bound to put me in one of my remaining suits and slap a pair of Allen Edmonds on me until they realize they won’t incinerate as well as a pair of lightweight Olukai’s.