step happy

Clogs conjure up many associations, from Dutch kitsch, to Scandinavian purity and functionalism to their new, and in my opinion hideous, cheap imitation, the widely popular Croc. But there is nothing like a pair of cheery cherry-red real Swedish clogs to make you feel like spring.

The fact is, their wooden heel makes you walk differently, sort of gently hop from one foot to another and then roll, which is why of course, they are supposed to be good for your posture and your back (one committed clogger I've come across in my travels is the manager of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, who has back problems and on his doctors' prescription, wears clogs with everything, including a tuxedo). But not only do they add a happy, hippie ditziness to a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt--and certainly in my case, a little welcome added height--every time you happen to look down and catch a glimpse of these hilarious bright red comic book things on your feet, you want to do a goofy little dance. Because their big selling point as far as we are concerned is that they are simply adorable.

Nevermind that our kids, who do not have the same associations with this particular holdout from the era of free love, do not share our extreme enthusiasm--the first time I came home with a pair the home audience was so thumbs down I returned them the next day--Susan is the founding leader of a small unofficial, yet highly enthusiastic clog club. Every time she visits her lovely daughter Haining in the hippie headquarters of Cambridge, Mass, she pops into an ancient clog purveyor who still stocks the real thing to search for them in several different sizes. Thanks to her frequent visits, I, among her lucky clogging acolytes, am now the proud owner of not one, but two different versions: one maroon and black Troentorp chef's quality pair, which I tend to wear indoors in winter (amazingly comfortable for a long day on your feet in the kitchen), and these charmingly naif red ones which I sport outdoors with absolutely everything (because they are so nutty, they do go with everything) as soon as the snow melts.

We thought, when Susan was shooting this image, that against the bold graphic of the blue and white tiled floor, the red clogs might have a fresh, Swedish Ikea look. But interestingly enough, this footwear of fairy tales cuts such a bold swath it has its own mojo. To me, it's like a close-up in an appropriately Dutch painting, as moody and mysterious as a Vermeer.