As kids, my cousin Glenna and I had a knack for getting into trouble. We often spent summers together and though while apart, we were both fairly levelheaded people; together we magically morphed into a couple of numb-skulls.
Case in point… the clog incident.
We had a certain amount of freedom at Glenna’s house. We could walk to the corner store, to friend’s houses and to the Wendys restaurant. All were within minutes of home. But, we were forbidden to go near any of the nearby waterways and we were never, ever permitted to wander close any bridges.
We were no more than 10 years old when we set out on our adventure. It was a spur of the moment scheme that was unquestionably ill planned. We had no money, no snacks and I was wearing slip-on-clogs… Abba (yes, that Abba) clogs. It was the early 80s. Cool looked different back then.
|Yeah, it looked a little something like this.|
After we had squeezed our way past the barriers, one of us suggested a game of chicken. The concept was simple – hold on to the fence, lean back, let go and see which dumb ass would grab for the fence first. It was kind of a "nature's way of weeding out the stupid" moment. We made one or two attempts, when one of my clogs slipped off my foot… a blessing in disguise.
Within seconds, the wooden soled shoe hit the water and was instantly sucked below the surface. Glenna and I both froze and clung to the fence as we took a good look at the sheer 40-foot drop below us.
We stared at one other – our eyes wild with fear. “We can’t go home without your clog,” reasoned Glenna. “If we do, my mom will know we were up to something.”
“Clogs float, don’t they?” I wondered out loud.
“Yes!” Glenna yelped as she grabbed my hand.
The plan was simple. We would get the hell off the bridge and scoot down the embankment to see if we could liberate the clog from the rushing water.
It didn’t work. We saw my shoe a few times as it bobbed and dipped in the current. And we even thought briefly about jumping in after it. But in the end, I walked home with one sock foot.
Our parents - understandably furious - were thankful that we both survived, in spite of our own foolishness.
Since then, clogs have held a special place in my heart. I think the following people must feel the same way…
Artist Halle Riddlebarger creates lovely designs on shoes of all kinds. Drawn in black India ink on the white leather upper of a wooden clog, this pair features a variety of abstract designs and images from the artist's imagination.
Lee Lynden likes clogs and Christmas. What a festive combination! Here she has created the ultimate hostess gift. Best of all, when you order your own custom pair you get a free Holiday card. It gets better and better, yes?
If Day of the Dead is more your style, than you will appreciate these functional works of art by Lisa from Coral Springs. Mind you, the clogs were pre-owned before she painted them which makes me feel a little less than enthused. You pays yer money and you takes yer chances...
Perhaps you are more fashion forward, in which case you will probably long for footwear like this. Then again, maybe not. Like my husband says: "Sure, you can put glitter on it, but it's still a clog."
|Miu Miu Glitter Covered Clogs|
Then, there are these puppies designed by whimsikalwood. They are the real deal - a genuine pair of fully wooden clogs. Although, I don't think you'd find too many Dutch tulip farmers sporting toenails like these. How do you say "yuck" politely?
And finally, while we're talking Dutch (my favorite language), here is a delightful painting by one of the world's most well known artists. Enjoy and remember, clogs save lives.
|A Pair Of Leather Clogs by Vincent Van Gogh|