I recently came a cross a post concerning appropriate winter footwear on Tim Chilcote's blog Great Lakes Guru. His tirade against Uggs caught my eye:
If there’s one thing that irks me about my marriage it’s that my wife owns a pair of Uggs. These boots look like dirty lunch bags stuffed with wet hamster chips, and they transform the female form and strut into something akin to that of a drunk circus clown walking on the moon. Spend time on a college campus in Michigan and you’ll be terrified to find that nearly every female on campus is decked out in Uggs, and worse, they match the boots with black tights. Skinny undergraduate legs exaggerate the size of the boot until Ann Arbor in January is like a ballerina-hippie-Eskimo nightmare.Say what you will sir, but Ann Arbor in January is MY ballerina-hippie-Eskimo nightmare! That being said, Tim certainly has a way with words.
Sometimes though, I feel a little guilty for hating on Uggs. It's just a little too easy, like when I beat my boss' five-year-old son in soccer: it feels good, but in a hollow way. Sure, they are lacking in terms of form and function. They offer no traction or arch support and don't resist the elements. But is it strange that we direct so much ire towards this fashion choice made by young women?