These Crocs were made for walking...if nothing more.
Colorado is all over this week's New Yorker, which not only has a piece on Denver, but this diss on Crocs in the opening graph of "Sole Sisters":
Boys have cars, girls have shoes -- nineteen pairs, on average, according to a Consumer Reports poll. And so: I'll take a hedge funds' worth of Manolo Blahnik stilettos, and you can have one Rolls-Royce. Or a litter of Roger Vivier kitten heels for me, one Lamborghini for you. A colosseum of Dolce & Gabana gladiator sandals for me, and a Ferrari for you. Or how about I take a country club full of Tod's loafers,and you can have a Range Rover? Me, a mall of UGGs; you, one Volvo wagon. Me, a tribe of Masai BarefootTechnology sandals; you, one Toyota Prius. Me, a swamp of Crocs; you, one VW Bug. Actually, you can keep the Crocs. I'll call a cab.
Ironically, this week in Denver, the author would have been better off with the Crocs than calling a cab. Outside of downtown, it was almost impossible to get a taxi (one fellow staying at my house gave up an hour after the promised cab failed to materialize), and even in LoDo, where cabs were cruising, the competition for them was cutthroat. My solution? I stashed a pair of Crocs sandals in my purse, so I was ready when walking was the only way to get there. -- Patricia Calhoun