My co-workers in the Angie’s List Blue House make fun of me because I religiously wear Crocs — those clunky, rubbery shoes. I have enough pairs to practically match every outfit I own, and I’m asking for a few more for Christmas. I just love the way they tenderly hug my feet without rubbing a blister into my heel or crunching my toes. And I can’t resist the synthetic fur-lined clogs that keep my feet toasty, despite Indiana’s winter breezes that seep through the Blue House’s old windows.

Last week, I wore my Crocs denim slip-ons, but I freaked out on the walk to lunch with my co-workers. Alas, I noticed my shoe had a hole in the toe! Our walk wasn’t long or treacherous, but it felt that way after discreetly limping my way there; I didn’t want to stretch out the hole even more.

I plan to consult the List for a top-notch shoe repair service around my house. My co-workers may poke fun at me for adoring what some consider a trend gone wrong, but I don’t care. Crocs are serious business to me (and my feet), and only the best shoe repairman will do.