http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/735489.html

In the two years since then I even found myself buying a pair of Crocs, in shocking blue, as well as one for one of my children, who works as a barman; I took pity on his tender feet (size 48, European), which have to bear the weight of his body for so many hours. Who knows, maybe the kid was user No. 1 and maybe I am vicariously responsible for turning the horrors of tree resin into an epidemic that cannot be blocked out by shutting your eyes, because they crop up everywhere and even in the most unexpected places. Never mind people with the Jerusalem type of hippie look - worshipers at the Kol Haneshama Reform synagogue or frequenters of The Lab theater - who have simply ditched their Birkenstocks in favor of something even uglier; never mind holistic and alternative healers of all kinds, or the generations of nirvana-seekers; never mind barmen, chefs, members of the paramedical professions, cashiers and all those who have to spend hours on their feet.

With my own eyes I have seen people who spend their lives sitting and perusing, not only by chance, the fashion columns and possessing such a developed fashion sensitivity that they actually understand what Amit Shoham writes. I have seen these people wear such clogs not only to movie matinees, but even to the theater, concerts and, lo and behold, even to what is known in these parts as an “event” - which as everyone knows is something for which people usually dress to the nines, which is absolutely not supposed to include clogs or slippers of any kind.