Manolo says, one of the Manolo’s internet friends has asked the Manolo the question.

Dear Manolo,

I work in Los Angeles in the part of TV no one sees, post-production. It’s where editing, sound, captions and graphics are put together to make the actual programs on the magic box. To say it’s a VERY casual environment would be an understatement. Jeans and sneakers are the order of the day and one can even see flip-flops at the office. I have recently fallen deeply in love with Dansko closed-back clogs and they are now the only shoe I want to wear ever. I am of a petite stature and they add a little height while still being easy to run around in and come in many cool patterns.

I am a woman of a certain age (54, if you must know) and am afraid that this cloginization means I am becoming frumpy, but I do have to say that I get LOTS of compliments on my shoes. Such as these: Dansko Professional Tooled Clogs which I am wearing with dark jeans and a white tuxedo shirt today. Am I fooling myself?

Your blog is brilliant, witty and charming, by the way, and I say this not to try to get you to answer, but to thank you for all the reading pleasure you give.

Robin

Ayyyy! Perhaps the effusive praise is befogging the Manolo’s powers of judgment, but these Dansko clogs are not entirely repulsive, although the pattern is not exactly to the Manolo’s taste.

On the one of the hands, the clog has the long and honorable tradition of service as the durable European peasant feetwear.

On the other of the hands, the clog is the peasant shoe for the peasants who work in the muck and the mud of the rural barnyard, where the ability to scrape the noxious effluvia from the shoes is of the highest priority…. Which, now that the Manolo considers it, may perhaps make it the perfect shoe for those who work in Hollywood.

On the third of the hands, for the briefest of moments, late last year, the clogs were considered especially stylish.

On the fourth of the hands, unless you are the 15-year-old Belorussian super model, you will not look stylish in the clogs, no matter what your slovenly co-workers and the Teen Vogue are saying.

On the fifth of the hands, “Rock on, Comfort Shoe Lady”.

On the sixth of the hands, “What do you mean, ‘Comfort Shoe Lady?”

On the seventh of the hands, “Nothing, nothing, just that you look so comfortable.”

On the eighth of the hands, “Is there something wrong with that?”

On the ninth of the hands, “No, no. Nothing wrong, nothing at all, Comfort Shoe Lady.” *snicker*

On the tenth of the hands, “I don’t care what you think. They make my feet feel good.”

On the eleventh of the hands, “Rock on, Comfort Shoe Lady.”

On the twelfth of the hands, perhaps you may consider upgrading to the Clergerie clogs, because then, when you are called the Comfort Shoe Lady, you may reply, “But they’re French, from Paris!!!”