Toddler foot fetish? That's a Croc

A lot has changed since I had toddlers. Crocs, for example. These brightly-colored plastic clog-like shoes are everywhere now, it seems. And all I can think of is Dang! Where were these when my nits were toddlers?

I spent a lot of wasted effort trying to get my daughter into footwear she didn't deem appropriate. So what if it was a pink tennis shoe with cartoon characters on it that I thought she should like. She had her own ideas of what to wear. Often these ideas were unseasonable and impractical. Such as wearing flip-flops AND tights in February when it was raining. Sometimes she wanted to wear two separate shoes. Sometimes she wanted two left shoes. Different styles.

Efforts to reason with her were met with, ah, resistance.

I complained about the morning trauma of finding appropriate footwear for my toddler once in earshot of a group of parents and was promptly set straight. Fantastical footwear. It was just a toddler thing. Don't try to fight it. It was universal.

Once I realized that all toddlers had a footwear fetish, my life was made that much easier. I sought out the garish, the slip-on, or optimally, a shoe that embodied both characteristics. Annie was in her pink rain boot phase when we happened upon the Dorothy shoe and never looked back. You know the Dorothy shoe don't you? They must still make them: Mary Janes covered in red glitter. The dream shoe of every girl between the ages of 2 and 5. My daughter must have had five consecutive pairs before she lost interest in them. They were the only shoe she wore for several years before kindergarten.

My son, thankfully, didn't take to the Dorothy shoe (and had he, you know, I'd have rolled with it...I think...). No, he preferred to spend his toddler years shod in a pair of green froggy rain boots.

Of course now that they're both well out of the toddler foot fetish years, I've started noticing a shoe the would have loved, a shoe that would have made my life a lot easier.

Like ants, once you see one, you suddenly see thousands. And so it was with Crocs. Last summer I noticed two tow-headed little boys in shorts and these delightful, brightly-colored plastic clogs. They were jumping around and chasing each other as little kids do, yet the clogs stayed fast. So stylish, yet so functional. Whimsy plus utility. Where was I -- Denmark?

Suddenly I started noticing them everywhere. On everyone.

What started out as a lark by three middle-aged business guys turned almost overnight into another American success story thanks to a savvy business strategy. But a million parents lining up to buy their toddlers a pair or three didn't hurt, either.

Kid trends can make big money. Just ask the publishing industry (Hullo, Harry). So it's little wonder Crocs were an instant hit. They come in more than a dozen bright colors. You can slip them on. They're comfortable. They're waterproof!

They couldn't have designer a better shoe for toddlers if they'd tried. Which they didn't.

That's why today there's probably not a kid under five who can't be seen trotting along in a brightly colored pair of these comfy shoes ... trailed closely by a mom or dad shod in their own.

Crocs, Inc., based in Colorado, went from $1 million in revenue in 2003 to a projected $322 million this year. Its February IPO (Initial public offering) gave the footwear maker a market cap of $1 billion. That's a lot of money for a company that started out making boat shoes.

But it took more than a parenting trend to put Crocs on the big boy map. In 2003 the company was doing $1 million in business -- not bad considering sales were largely driven through word of mouth. Then the founders hired an old college chum who knew what he was doing, who helped them grow the company to the next level. In 2004 the company bought the Canadian business that manufactured Crocs and owned the rights to the resin that gave the shoes their particular comfort and odor resistance -- called Croslite. Now the company owned the means of production, which means they can easily shift direction and create new styles as dictated by the whims of fashion.

It's not just American tots who love Crocs, either. International sales drove the company to record revenues and now accounts for some 30% of its business. For example, one in six Israelis owns a pair. The company says it's on board to sell some 20 million pairs of shoes this year. That's no Croc.

In the meantime, Crocs is marketing on its trendy success -- it's opening a giant store in New York City's uber-hip SoHo district, and is branching out into corporate branding, making special Crocs for companies like Google, Walt Disney, and the L.A. Lakers.

Of course, three-year-olds or their parents don't care about any of this. As long as their bright red clogs are in the living room where they left them last night. As long as there are no shoe-related tantrums in the morning.

And I'm left wondering if my now tween-aged daughter might agree to wear a purple pair (and if not, maybe I'll just wear them instead...)

Merry Christmas Everyone! May you find the Crocs of your choice underneath the tree this morning!

Julie Tilsner, a mom of two and contributing editor for Parenting Magazine, is the author, most recently, of Mommy Yoga: The 50 Stretches of Motherhood.