They say it's a sign that a woman's given up the day that she puts comfort before fashion.

Well, it's all bollocks, really, isn't it? Fashion, I mean. It is theoretically possible to have one without the other, but it's also true that fashion is about doing without comfort, by and large, from the medieval escarpin to the Tudor ruff to the tight-laced corset. And it's true that as I get older, I value comfort more and more. 

Nevtherless, my heart absolutely sank when my podiatrist ordered me into Crocs. 

"But they're so ugly," I protested. 

"But they're designed for your feet," he said. "They're the only shoes that are."

Unlike Uggs, which can be attractive in their cuddly way and which I defend to the hilt, Crocs really have nothing to recommend them in the looks department. They are resolutely ugly. With that in mind, and swearing that I'd only wear them in the house, I ordered a navy pair as being the most unobtrusive (they go with my jeans), and apologised to the DH for the fact that I'd now be clumping round the house like a duck. 

It took a long time for them to arrive, since for some unknown reason, they took a trip to the Cayman Islands before arriving back with the vendor and being sent on to me. And when they arrived, I thought there must be some mistake.

They seemed enormous. They were far longer than my feet. And wide too. The sizing was right, but I was so uncertain that I phoned a friend and she told me the sizing on Crocs is now all over the place, since they started making them in different factories. She herself wears Crocs in three different sizes and they all fit. 

It was the DH who thought to log on and see if Crocs are meant to be this large - and he found that they are. You're meant to have a finger's width of space either side of your foot, and at the end, but given that, I couldn't see how they were going to stay on my feet. Still, since they had come all this way, it seemed only fair to give them a try, and I duly put them on. 

At first they felt extremely peculiar, like boats. But as my feet moulded the soles into shape, I entirely forgot I was wearing them. After three days, I was a convert, which is something I thought I would never be.

I suppose I have made that discovery that everyone else who wears them has had - that wearing Crocs is like going barefoot, that it makes you feel like a child again. I have not thought about my pronating left foot since buying them. They weigh nothing. I can run and downstairs, I can drive, I can walk around the garden in the wet grass and be dry minutes later. I am no longer in pain.

I admit, also, that I am wearing them even outside the house, much to the amusement of my friends (Crocs wearers all). They said I would cave, and cave I have. 

Oh well. How the mighty are fallen. Can't wait to get another pair. 

My fashion fairy is feeling a bit sick lately, following a checkup at the podiatrist.

He has ordered me into Crocs. 

Ohmigod, I hate them. I really hate them. But he says, and no joke, that they will be the best thing for my feet. 

For a few weeks now I've been having some pain in my left big toe joint, which I thought might be the beginning of arthritis, and along with the fact that I now don't seem able to wear even a modest heel - say 2 inches - without the soles of my feet burning like hell, I thought I'd go back for another checkup. It was overdue anyway.

One look at me standing on his little perspex mirror thingy and 'pieds valgus' was his verdict - flat feet. Oh what joy. 

It's genetic, he tells me, and he ought to be right. If memory serves, my flat feet as a child were the reason my mum sent me to ballet. I thought that problem was gone for good, but apparently not.

Along with the Crocs, I now have to wear orthotic soles in my ordinary shoes, and will be measured up for them on Thursday. Well, what could be more sexy than a nice pair of arch supports? My left leg is also shorter than my right, hence my new nickname from friend T: 'Freak'. (I suggested Gimpy, which rhymes with how I feel about it.)

I should be grateful, of course, and I am. My sister is now battling back and hip problems due to years of misalignment, so I want to get this sorted out if I can. The flat feet are the reason that I'm pronating onto my left big toe, which is the reason that it's hurting, and down the line I'm looking at wearing my left hip out twice as fast as my right if I don't nip this in the bud now.

So, I am frantically online, boning up about the right kind of shoes to wear, and weighing up the benefits of Birkenstocks versus Crocs versus Fly-Flots. A whole new area for me to explore.  

I'd better make the most of it, hadn't I?.