Since I first laid my poor eyes on them, I have absolutely hated Crocs.

I know I’m not alone in my pain and I also know there are millions of People-Who-Are-Not-Like-Me who actually buy and wear them.  My clients are not allowed to wear them. That would reflect badly on me.

I have ranted, I have raved, raged and screamed. Clicked my tongue in disgust. Given the beady eyeball. Fantasised about flash-mobs in which Croc-wearers are bombarded by all manner of cooking ingredients or spray paint.

But I thought I was over it. I have not really noticed them lately. Perhaps as a form of self-protection, denial had kicked in and I’d just refused to see them actually happening.

But on Sunday, the rage overcame me again and ruined my perfect day. I’d been peacefully sitting, enjoying the serenity of a lunch on a beautiful day with gorgeous, hilarious company when these foul things stomped all over my happiness:

Is this an attempt to make the ugly Croc cuter? Are we now going to see ugly renditions of other shoe styles moulded into sickly fluorescent plastic clogs with holes in them?

Oh I don’t know how much longer I can take it!!!