Thursday

Clear shoe box



Taking sneaker obsessions to another level, this Clear Box, by Japanese designer Neo, is actually useful when choosing which shoes to wear and good-looking—well, depending on which pair you have in there.

Perfect for those who have a grip of sneakers or even just to display a prized possession, we think the plexiglass box would make for good stock packaging for a sneaker company looking to up the ante.

Source: Cool Hunting, 10/25/07

Crocs get the boot at some schools


First there was the flip-flop flap. Now comes the Croc crackdown.

Crocs, those ubiquitous, Swiss-cheese-like clogs, are joining their flimsier flip-flop cousins on school "do not wear" lists around the USA.

More public schools are instituting stricter, parochial-style dress codes, and Crocs, along with generic sandals and flip-flops, aren't fitting the closed-toe, closed-heel criteria.

Another trend, Hollywood's obsession with hats, is also proving scarce: Many schools don't allow headgear, including hoodies and even headbands, to be worn indoors.

In some elementary schools, Crocs are a safety question. Though most schools are escalator-free — in the past year, the Croc-escalator cocktail has been blamed for injuring the toes of a few children — administrators say monkey bars and Crocs, as well as sandals and flip-flops, don't mix.

Likewise hallways and Heelys, the popular roller sneaker, which has skated out of schools from New Mexico to Alabama. (Roller shoes put 1,600 people, most of them children, in the hospital last year, according to the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission.) At Kingston Elementary in Virginia Beach, students can wear them as long as the wheels are locked in; if the wheels emerge, the school calls home.

It's not "totally unreasonable" for schools to be sensitive that some clothing poses safety concerns, says Lisa Soronen, senior staff attorney with the National School Boards Association. "Schools are sued not infrequently for a variety of injuries that happen to students" on school property. "I've tried on Crocs. They're not made for your individual foot. These aren't custom shoes here."

Whether a school bans an article of clothing is "really a local decision," says Gerald Tirozzi, executive director of the National Association of Secondary School Principals. "But I always argue that these things have to be done in a very reasonable and responsible way," and consistently, so that, for instance, no Crocs for students also means no Crocs for teachers.

Though most parents support a Heelys ban, some see the Croc crackdown as, well, a crock. "I don't think they're a problem," says Amy Ulibarri, whose daughter, Contessa, 6, threw herself on the floor in a screaming fit last year when forced to trade her beloved pink Crocs for sneakers. Hers is "one flat school," says Ulibarri, 27, a stay-at-home mother in Ely, Nev. "They can't even trip downstairs." Besides, she says, little kids are in general are uncoordinated: "They trip on shoestrings."

The company agrees. "I don't see them posing a safety issue as long as parents are buying the right size," says spokeswoman Tia Mattson, who says the Niwot, Colo.-based company has received few inquiries regarding Croc challenges in schools. (Mattson says Crocs suffers from a public-relations problem: The company has become synonymous with glorified garden shoes, and yet they sell an increasingly wide range of footwear, some of which is playground-friendly.)

Over at CafeMom, a mom-centric social-networking site, there have been nearly 500 posts on the debate over classic Crocs since July, says senior community manager Elizabeth Smith.

"There's not a lot of in-between — a lot of moms love them, then a lot of moms hate them, so the passions run deep." They're either comfortable, easy-to-clean, galoshes-like godsends or aesthetically challenged sartorial scourges, depending on whom you ask.

In Washington County, Ala., Leroy High students love them — nearly every one owns a pair, says principal Larry Massey. So he's showing a little sympathy and drawing out the break-up process. Banned for this fall as part of a closed-shoe-only policy — "I think it was because they were too ugly," Massey jokes — Massey gave students a goodbye grace period during the first quarter: Crocs creep back in the closet starting Friday. "We'll have a memorial service," he says.

Source: USA Today, 10/18/07

Monday

Seeking a Joint Effort for Greener Athletic Shoes


Jeffrey B. Swartz, the chief executive of Timberland, is frustrated.

He has seen makers of athletic shoes and outdoor wear — companies like Nike, Patagonia and certainly his own — act in concert to end child labor practices. And he has seen these companies use more organic cotton and use solar and wind energy.

But he has yet to see an industrywide effort to adopt the greenest methods for making, transporting and selling shoes. Green technologies are readily available, he says, but shoe companies have been excruciatingly slow to adopt them.

The main reason, he says he suspects, is that while most of the industry’s chiefs really do care about environmental issues, they are indulging in parallel play.

In a recent conversation, Mr. Swartz elaborated on why his industry will make environmental progress only if its chiefs agree to an industry standard for greenness and use their combined clout to get their suppliers to meet it.

Following are excerpts:

Q. Shoe companies easily collaborate on human rights issues, so why are they having such a hard time with environmental matters?

A. When you are talking about child labor laws, for example, people from the manufacturing team or from the social enterprise team take charge. And at that level there are wonderful informal networks among the companies.

It’s not Timberland and Patagonia collaborating, its Betsy from Timberland networking with Casey from Patagonia. Its activist to activist, not company to company. The companies are sponsors, but not originators of ideas.

That works for some environmental issues, too, of course. Nike developed a way to gasify waste leather for use as fuel, and someone from their team told someone from our team about it.

We’re putting gasification online at our Dominican Republic plant.

Q. Why wouldn’t that same approach work for adopting other environmentally sound practices?

A. Very few of us do our own manufacturing. Probably 90 percent of the footwear sold in America is made by the same five or six global manufacturers, who are operating out of huge manufacturing complexes that serve many clients.

We all probably use Pou Chen in China, for example. So sure, I can go to the head of Pou Chen and say, “Why don’t you try wind energy? I use it in the Dominican Republic.”

But then another customer says, “No, try solar energy.” We need to go as an industry and say, “We’ll invest with you to explore greener energy.”

And lower-level people cannot make that kind of commitment.

Q. In other words, you should band together to apply pressure on suppliers. But aren’t your customers — the retailers and the consumers — applying that kind of pressure on all of you to provide “green” shoes?

A. Not really. We ask people who just bought a pair of shoes how they made their choice, and the immediate answer is that the price was right, or they liked the look or the color.

Ask people what they know about the human rights or environmental track record of the brand they just bought, and they walk away. People buy on the basis of product attributes, not brand attributes.

Q. But why must they make that choice? Wouldn’t consumers flock to an environmentally friendly shoe that is also fashionable and inexpensive?

A. They wouldn’t avoid it. But as an industry, we position our products as more waterproof, or worn by the hottest celebrities. We haven’t positioned environmental attributes as aspirational, as qualities that will make people who buy our shoes feel good about themselves.

The result is that people may think of green shoes as things that they should buy, but not necessarily as things that they want to buy.

It’s like community service — people have come to think of that as something that judges force celebrity drunk drivers to do, not as something that people joyfully embrace. It’s all couched in terms of guilt and penalties, not in terms of aspirational activities.

Q. But how could even a coordinated collaboration of shoe industry chiefs break through such strong psychological resistance?

A. If the industry breaks through its own resistance, the consumers will follow.

We could start by developing industrywide standards. Timberland has begun putting green index tags on some of our shoes, which show how they rate in terms of their impact on the environment. We hope to eventually have tags on all of them. And we hope other shoe companies will adopt similar tags.

If we all make the tags bold and colorful, shoppers will notice them. And if they are on all the shoe boxes, it will become automatic for shoppers to compare green tags among brands, just like they compare price and color.

And then they’ll notice which boxes aren’t labeled, and they’ll ask the sales associate why not. The sales associate will tell the store’s buyer, who will call the manufacturer and ask for labeling, just like they now call and insist on colors or styles.

When that happens, we’ll all be fighting to have the best tag. No car company wants to be known for the worst gas mileage, and no shoe company will want to be known for the least environmentally friendly shoes.

Q. So why don’t you get the collaborative ball rolling, and convene a meeting of your chief executive counterparts?

A. Good question. Our competitors are so much bigger than we are, and that makes me reluctant to place the call. But maybe I really should do less lamenting that C.E.O.’s aren’t getting together, and pick up a phone. Maybe that’s the answer: I should lament less and dial more.

Source: New York Times, 9/29/07