“You actually bought those striped Danskos? Were you on drugs or something?” I could hear the disapproval through the headset.
My phone calls with my sister Madeline aren’t usually contentious. As teachers, we share tidbits about education; as sisters we talk about our children, our parents, and her animals now that I don’t have any. Many times we’ll describe the latest shoes we’re ogling, which are almost exclusively by Dansko. Often, we’ll “shop” together, visiting websites, ordering while talking.
“Yes, they’re light-weight, easy to get on and off in airports, and sort have an espadrille look but give more support,” I defended my purchase. I’m about to travel—a bike trip—so don’t need much for when off bike. Casual, comfortable shoes, like clogs. I’d looked around at the shoe store, debating various flats and sneakers. I didn’t want sandals. These seemed to provide the flexibility I needed. All right, maybe they are a bit over cute for my age.
I love clogs and for teaching they are the only shoes to wear. I marvel at teachers who can stand in stilettos for hours or can hurry down the halls in heels. Not me.
I wear clogs in the classroom and clogs in the kitchen, and have many pairs of Dansko sandals and flats. Between going barefoot in yoga or wearing special bike shoes for cycling, it’s hard finding comfortable dress shoes. Every occasion when I need them I’m nervous about which height to wear, how far do I need to walk, how long do I need to stand. As soon as I’m home, I’m back in my clogs.
But it’s not a perfect love affair. Dansko, in its attempt to keep current, discontinue styles at whim. My favorite sandals—Molly, Maxine, and Heloise- are long gone to Dankso heaven; their replacements don’t work for me. I have to make these former styles last forever—I can’t even find them on eBay.
My new clogs are vegan; not made with any animal products. Funny how when I was a kid, leather was a symbol of high quality. Vegan is the new leather; very chic, like my new clogs.