The Day the Clog Virgins Came to the Clogmaster
At 3 p.m. last Thursday, in a nondescript room at the Bedford Hotel, six women, mostly 40-something, pored over binders and rings of leather samples, discussing the merits of patent leather versus suede and kibitzing about foot pain. Blanketing the floor all around them, in waves of red, green, pale pink and turquoise, were clogs: Read More
