Oh man. I was doing a shoot yesterday* for a summer style story**, and right there in the middle of a stall of gargantuan shoes, I saw them.

What did I see?

Oh but yes, that is the question.


Just wait…

Think about it at least two seconds!

So what we will first criticize, and then hate, and then give a second glance, and then reconsider, and then finally steal from all the stores and no one will be able to find them anywhere anymore: clogs.


Red, black, neon, with heels, with clasps, minimalist, sophisticated, with a mustache, there was one for every taste. Only thing they had in common? Their wooden soles and their… Grrrrr… Their return to the farm look that grrrrr…. I’m not into at all, but really, not at all. The worst is still the clogs with heels. I’d rather a clog with a mustache than a clog with heels.



No, clogs, vade retro clogs, you’re too ugly. I don’t want anything to do with you.

I’m not going to give in. I’m staying right here. You aren’t for me. No, not even you little Céline clog. No, not you either, don’t even ask you weirdo Miu Miu clog. And not even you camelia-ized Chanel. And even you, Vuitton monogrammed clog, you’re just too grotesque for me, looking like you do, I’d call you high-art, à la Marc.  Okay, away you go! Out!

Okay, so what do you think, with this kind of determination, you think I’ll make it all the way to spring without a pair of clogs?


* Yep, it’s me with a team of 10 people. What’s this boss thing? It’s crazzzzzy. You ask for something and then bam, they bring it to you. Starbucks anyone?

** What happens when you’re shooting a model in a floral mini-dress in the middle of January in a SNOW STORM? NOOOOOTHING good.

*** What happens when you open up suitcases full of outfits from next season? ENVYYYYYYY.

PS : Sorry about the illustration, but you won’t have me draw a pair of clogs. No. Not yet.

Translation : Tim Sullivan.