Social networking may be the last refuge of the 21st Century scoundrel. Case in point: Crocsideas.com! Pulling the laziest designer trick of lazy designers everywhere, Crocs wants you to help them make their shoes into something half-decent. In the nauseous language of corporate prosumer sites everywhere, you can Join The Community, Post An Idea, and View & Vote (on the Community's Ideas). You can Share, Listen, and Innovate.

Isn't that sweet? Crocs wants you to tell it exactly what you think of it! And maybe to suggest what it might do that would be worth buying.

If crowd-sourcing its product development seems like scraping the bottom of the barrel, that's because it is. It wasn't always this way. When the company went public in 2006, it raised $208 million, and had the biggest stock market debut of any footwear company since people have been wearing shoes. One feverish day in October, 2007, the stock price hit $74.75. Various people have debated what this early-oughts vogue for spongy, candy-colored clogs meant, tying the trend in to America's deep desire for comfort in the aftermath of 9/11 and in the run-up to war ("America wanted a shoe that nurtured it, cradled it, made it feel warm and safe and loved...they quickly became the bacteriostatic security blanket for our souls"), or making them into cheap and cheerful symbols of the now-passed economic boom.

The reversal came swiftly. The company lost $181 million in 2008; it scrambled to service its debts, and laid off 2,000 employees. People stopped just buying them; attempts at branching out into Crocs clothing and Crocs cell phone holders and those idiotic Crocs hole charms, never caught on. (CEO John Duerden says the company was caught in "a perfect storm.") What happened to Crocs calls to mind those animals who evolve so perfectly to meet certain niche conditions that they find they can tolerate no others, like those amphibians who die in the South American jungle when the water level of their stream rises an inch. Crocs had one good idea: making cheap, funny looking but comfortable clogs in a cute array of colors, suitable for people who wanted to make a statement about caring more about comfort than about making statements. Unfortunately, the perforated foam rubber clog was widely copied by cheaper imitators, the fad blew up, and the market went away. Everyone who wanted Crocs, had them. The stock is currently trading at around $5.31, which is not quite its all-time low.

So how do you solve a problem like Crocs? We thought long and hard about this. OK, not really. But wouldn't it be great if...

• They had "no-slip soles and a secure upper," says Margaret. "You know, like actual shoes. My mom owns a pair (which, thankfully, she only wears while gardening) and I slipped them on last week when I was going to get the mail. I tripped and almost fell on my driveway."
• Take away the holes, says Hortense, who noticed the company pushing holey clogs for winter wear. "NOBODY wants holes in their winter shoes. They look cheap and stupid (and not to mention cold and drafty)."
• I say they should take a cue from, you know, every other shoe company on earth — even the ones who might have had less successful IPOs! — and make a better array of styles. Croslite, the proprietary foam that Crocs are made out of, is actually kind of a cool material: it's lightweight, it's waterproof, it doesn't absorb sweat or odors, and it molds to the wearer's foot under body heat. So why is it only ever used for ugly clogs? Why not make sandals? Jellies? Flip-flops? Think minimal, not clunky. Jesus, do we have to draw you guys a picture?
• Imagine Crocs going back to its nautical roots. (Company co-founder Scott Seaman originally thought they would make the perfect boat shoes.) Just think of the collab potential here! We're thinking: CrocSiders. For starters
• Is there any way we could get a pet line out of this?

Otherwise, we may have to break out the big guns, and think rebranding. Instead of Crocs, the cuddly Millennial shoe, why not be Sharks? Oh, wait, somebody did that.

Image via Weboo Shoes

CrocsIdeas [Official Site]
Crocs? They Were So Economic Boom [LATimes]
Can Crocs Be More Than A One-Hit Wonder? [Time]
Crocs On The Rocks [The Smart Set]

Babble's list includes such archetypes as "the bragger parent" and "the obsessed parent." (Still mired in the mostly-childless morass of people's snack updates and song lyrics, I can only yearn for a time when anyone will have anything as actually important as a baby to discuss, but I can only imagine that for the more restrained parents amongst us, such exhibitionism might grate - and, apparently, worse.) What the author seems to be really objecting to, though, is the assumption of equal fascination that characterizes both many Facebook users and many new (and newish) parents. For a new parent, Facebook and its ilk are a boon - both a connection to the world and to those doting relatives who are hungry for info. But these same qualities might have others reaching for "block status."

And that, of course, is ultimately the point: Facebook, Twitter, they're all optional - you don't need to see or hear anything you don't want to, and the truth is many of us love being annoyed. Facebook giveth, and Facebook taketh away. (Mostly it giveth, and giveth, and giveth, it's just that sometimes it's giving you "Jack-o-lanterns" and witticisms and invitations to join groups of middle-school-level irony.) We all love to grumble about the vagaries of various populations, be it the enthusiasms of our parents' generation, the narcissism of our own, the absorption of new parents. It's silly to complain, but it's just as unreasonable for the article's readers to huff, "then don't join!" All of these are part of the fabric of modern living, all necessary and vital. How anemic would life be with only restrained reports of moves or New York Times links? It's the Great Conversation. With pictures.

Facebook's Five Most Annoying Parents [Babble]

You see, crew, Cathy has finally fallen into the ol' technology trap, something the strip has been railing against for a few weeks now, with Cathy sighing not over boxes of chocolates or that bitchy saleswoman who seemingly lives to make Cathy hate herself at the swimwear shop, but over the way that technology has slowly crept into her life, making the personal impersonal, and creating a whole new set of problems to add to her already overloaded list. Her friends go off on vacations and send a billion digital photos; her co-workers talk more about the equipment they own than the lives they live with said equipment, and now, Facebook has come to ruin her life for good.

It started innocently enough, with an invitation from an old friend, as most of these things do. Cathy gets invited to Facebook, and she says yes. Little does she know that it's going to destroy her universe FOREVER. Oh, Cathy! When will you win?


Cathy soon learns, however, that Facebook will suck you in and spit you out like so many nasty women at swimsuit stores, luring you in with promises of good fun in the sun and then breaking your dreams in two with a harsh dose of "Who the hell are these random people and why are they bothering me about my life?" We've been there, too, Cathy. We shall ACK on your behalf.


Maybe it's because I'm getting older, but this strip struck me as incredibly sweet. Cathy is psyched to reconnect with her old friends, and is very excited when "Brenda" writes on her wall. It seems a bit corny, but it was nice to see Cathy get stoked about something that doesn't involve chocolate or her dog, Electra. The last panel is quite interesting as well: the concept of "auto-guilt," that Irving brings up is a true one—how often have you felt bad for not getting back to someone right away, or for missing/overlooking an email/IM/text? So often we bust on Cathy for feeling guilty about dumb things, but this strip felt painfully true. I actually had to step back and check myself after this one. Schooled by Cathy! I'll never be the same, crew.


Of course, with Cathy, the sense of "competitiveness" and the "Aacks!" are never far behind those moments of sweetness.


And now, naturally, Cathy's sense of self-worth goes right back to what she looks like; instead of worrying about her swimsuit, now she has to worry about her profile picture.


Today, Cathy's dogs have become concerned that perhaps she's not setting healthy boundaries re: her internet use. You know it's bad when Electra starts freaking out.

While I suspect this storyline will fade out over the next few weeks, I have to say that I find it pretty interesting and yes, a bit sweet. Cathy, who so often freaks out about her weight and her job, is now freaking out about her social networking life as well, something that I think most of us can relate to on some level. She's overwhelmed but excited, feeling competitive but flustered, and she's just trying to keep up with everyone else. Will she eventually devolve into a neurotic mess and throw her computer out the window? It's highly possible. But for once, I think we can cut Cathy a break and admit that in some ways, we see where she's coming from. So congrats, Cathy. Welcome to the internet. And remember, you can't spell Facebook without A-C-K.

Cathy [WashingtonPost]

'I think there's a worry that an excessive use or an almost exclusive use of text and emails means that as a society we're losing some of the ability to build interpersonal communication that's necessary for living together and building a community," Archbishop Nichols says, "We're losing social skills, the human interaction skills, how to read a person's mood, to read their body language, how to be patient until the moment is right to make or press a point. Too much exclusive use of electronic information dehumanises what is a very, very important part of community life and living together."

While Nichols was moved to speak on the matter after the death of a 15-year-old girl who committed suicide after being bullied online, his statements seem to imply that all social networking is detrimental for "real world" relationships, as the online universe tends to create a sense of reality that doesn't always translate in the world we live in once we walk away from our screens.

I spent a good part of my day online; most of it for work purposes, but I also connect with many of my friends through keyboards and screens, as we all went our separate ways after college and grad school, and it's the easiest way for all of us to keep in touch. In that way, social networking provides a means to stay connected to people you actually know and love in "real" life, without having to live two blocks away. But what of the connections we make with virtual strangers? The people we speak to everyday that we've never actually met before? Are they helping us, or hurting us?

In some ways, I think the virtual social world is helpful to many of us, myself included, who are painfully shy in real life: it can serve as a type of practice run for actually speaking to people in person. But in other ways, the validation and gratification one gets from doing his or her socialization strictly via the internet can make it seem like going out and actually hanging out with people isn't necessary, which can certainly become a problem if people become too isolated from the world beyond their computer. The retreat into the online world can be especially problematic for those who are being bullied and harassed; the few who choose to spew hateful, awful remarks at an individual suddenly appear to be the spokespeople for the world, if there are no non-internet people around to provide a much needed reality check.

As with most things in life, a balance is needed: if used correctly, social networking sites can help you meet new people in "real life" and serve as a means to continue socializing when you're stuck at work or in a place where it's hard to make new friends. I disagree with Nichols assertion that the online environment makes it harder for us to read moods, or to know when to make a point or to back off; if anything, I've found that I've learned more about how to approach people in certain situations via social networking, as people tend to be more honest and direct in their typing than they are face-to-face. Still, one wonders if that balance is easier for some to find than others—perhaps instead of condemning one form of socialization in favor of another, we should be educating people of all ages on how to live a life both online and off, with healthy boundaries set up to ensure that they don't lose themselves in either realm.

So what say you, commenters? Is social networking hurting your "real world" social skills? Or is it making them stronger?

Transient Friendships On Facebook And Bebo Can Lead To Increase In Teen Suicides Warns Archbishop [DailyMail]

Researchers at the Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center examined 69 non-abused teens from age 14 to 17, and 104 abused adolescent girls recruited from child protective agencies, CNN reports. The girls participated in a laboratory session in which they were asked to create avatars on a fake social networking site that allowed them to choose their physical features, provocative or conservative clothing, bust and hip size, and visible navel piercings. The participants were then asked to rate how many times they had received sexual advances online, which was described as "explicit sexual chatting in virtual worlds," and how many times they'd met a person who first contacted them online in real life.

Forty percent of the girls said they had received sexual messages online and 26 percent said they had met someone after getting to know them on the internet. The study reports that "abuse status was significantly related to online sexual advances, which were, in turn, related to offline, in-person encounters." There was no direct link between abuse and online solicitation, but researchers said the abused girls were at a greater risk.

The study also found a connection between a provocative avatar, or more sexual profile pictures posted on sites like Facebook and MySpace, and the girls who had received sexual messages online. The study says:

Those adolescents who may be unaware of how their appearance might be perceived may not, from a developmental perspective, possess the social sophistication necessary to field and ward off sexual advances in ways that protect them from sexually explicit suggestions.

Though in the past, experts on children's online safety reported that some pimps are recruiting from social networking sites and looking for girls whose profiles indicate that they are vulnerable, the new study may be too alarmist. A report released in January by a Harvard University task force found that the percentage of children who received sexual solicitations online fell from 19% in 2000 to 13% in 2006. Of those sexual messages, most came from other minors, and predatory incidents occur online about as often as they do in the real world.

The Prevention study's analysis of something as innocuous as a girl creating an avatar with a belly button ring and pouty lips places too much blame on girls for inviting online predators to victimize them. However, the study's main recommendation, that parents monitor their kids' online activities and talk to them about how they portray themselves online, is a good idea for either gender.

Study: Abuse, Provocative Images Increase Internet Risk For Girls [CNN]
Percentage Of Kids Solicited Online Drops, Harvard Report Says [National Sexual Violence Resource Center]

Earlier: Pimps Finding New Ways To Recruit Women, Girls

One awesome thing about moms joining Facebook or any other "new" social networking thing is how unjaded they are: technology that seems to us old-hat is a revelation, a source of excitement, a personal discovery (even several years into a phenomenon.) Whereas we don't wish to admit there's anything we don't know about - or at least suspected - those who've lived through a less technological age feel unconstrained to marvel. While we are already preemptively embarrassed by the crudeness of today's wonders, knowing there's something even better around the corner, moms are able to appreciate the wonder of what is.

Kids today have been hooked on Facebook for years, and by now have surely moved on to harder stuff: Twitter, the narcissists' heroin, makes Facebook look practically selfless in its expansiveness. But to Kristen Hansen Brakeman, a recent Facebook convert, the addiction comes as shocking.

I began to neglect my duties at the office, so busy was I uploading photos and posting links to hilarious videos. I learned to hide my omnipresent Facebook page by keeping a work-related document open on my desktop, which I would click on whenever my boss happened by...Then my kids began to infringe on my addiction. They would want meals or other irritating things like rides to school. "Just a minute, I have to check my Facebook. Oh, how cute; my friend Karen posted a new picture of her little baby."

What is it that we find so comically bizarre about older people doing this stuff? Is it what Brakeman describes, a neglect of parental duties which, even to adult kids, feels like a betrayal? Part of it is the fact that we want to hold tight to technology I'm sure - to say nothing of our privacy. I naturally queries ex-Jezebel Jessica, as an expert on all things Mom, who replied that "we present a certain version of ourselves to our parents, and that's not necessarily the version we're presenting to the internet world." (Which is ironic as they're two constructs of the same coin, to mix.) And you know what else? In a way, I think we want better for them. We know firsthand the soul-sucking, addictive, voyeuristic, petty, mean-spirited, superficial vapidity of this world and we wish to save them, in their innocence, from such horrors. We deserve no better; in a way, they do. It's undignified, of course, and while they may be blissfully ignorant of the sordid underpinnings of all such modes of communication, we all know there's a seediness to it - to even the most average photo album - that we'd rather protect them from. Beyond not wanting to deal with their reaction to a shot of you smoking a cigarette is the wish to shield them from it. But in a weird reversal of prior generations' roles, they're always nipping at our heels, forcing us on to the newest technologies, confident at least that it will be two years before they discover it. And on that note, we'd really discourage Brakeman from Twitter.

Finished With Facebook [Washington Post]
Mother Lode [New Yorker]

An article about collecting "celebrity" Facebook friends is bad enough. I mean, we all know people who are "friends" with Stephen Colbert or Dita Von Teese and for the most part it's an ironic sign of fandom. Not so in Jeffrey Scott Shapiro's deeply tragic Wall Street Journal article, which kinda pretends to be tongue-in-cheek but... isn't. For one thing, all the "celebrities" he covets turn out to be right-wing politicos. He gets sucked in to the heady world of D-list "friendship" when some minor Bush relative links to one of his articles.

I couldn't believe it — I was now friends with a member of the Bush family thanks to Facebook...After smooth-talking a cute blonde at the Capitol Hill Club on election night, I sent her a Facebook friend request. She accepted. The next day, I noticed that she was friends with former Republican House Majority Leader Dick Armey. I sent him a friend request and he confirmed me. Now, whenever I send a friend request to someone on the Hill, they can see right away that I'm friends with one of the most powerful Republican congressional leaders in recent history...They probably think I'm an important guy. I figure that what they don't know can't hurt them.

Um, just so, Sir. His list expands to Tinseltown - by which we mean Norm MacDonald and "a famous Hollywood actress" from Buffy. When he realizes that "friend" Charlie Sheen doesn't have any current pics, he "became suspicious." He - wait for it - contacts Charlie Sheen's publicist, and is shocked to find that he's not actually on intimate terms with with the Wall Street john.

Within a few hours I found out that my Facebook friend Charlie Sheen is not the real Charlie Sheen — even though the 1,481 people he's friends with think he is. His profile is littered with sycophantic comments, thanking him for accepting their friend requests. I guess I'm not the only one seeking self-importance and validation.

Now, Shapiro is a macher: a man with Facebook connections to numerous Republicans and D-listers, which is essentially the modern equivalent of the Algonquin Roundtable. And yet, it all rings so hollow, somehow. "Sean Hannity can't seem to make up his mind. He hasn't confirmed or rejected me yet. I can't help but wonder if he's been busy, or if he simply hasn't decided whether or not my reporting is up to par." We feel you, Mister: the Damocles' sword of Sean Hannity's approbation hangs over our heads every day.

Confessions Of A Facebook Social Climber [WSJ]

While Burger King's recent attempts at surreal edginess — "Whopper Virgins," anyone? — aren't going to raise many eyebrows, the fact that "Whopper Sacrifice" involved a notification that you'd been cut for a burger caught Facebook's attention: as everyone knows, people aren't normally told when you un-friend them, one of the few things that keeps the delicate ecosystem functioning. And, not unexpectedly, the scrutiny has opened something of a philosophical can of worms: what is a "friend?" Should you cull ruthlessly, or be generous? And what's the protocol? Justifies a marketer behind "Whopper Sacrifice" to the NY Times, “It seemed to us that it quickly evolved from quality of friends to quantity...which was interesting to us because it felt like the virtual definition of a friend became something different than the friends that you’d want to hang out with.”

Well, yeah. Nowadays those who keep their lists down to an exclusive circle of real friends are in the minority; even if you don't solicit friends yourself you're likely to be found by random elementary-school classmates or old coworkers — and it seems unkind to deny someone who's taken the time to search you out! Most people I know maintain an "everyone within reason" policy and have resigned themselves to distancing Facebook from anything truly personal. And among people under 20, it's standard for "friend" lists to top 300. Some folks I know feel somewhat misled; at first they accepted all requests because they felt honored; now, a year later, they see these relationships as reflections of a culture's diminishing currency.

And then the editing starts. Some Facebook expert tells the Times he "recommends culling your friend list once a year to remove total strangers and other hangers-on. Keeping your numbers down gives you more leeway to be selective about whom you approve in the first place." Part of the rationale for this discrimination is that, as a piece in today's Wall Street Journal makes clear, sites like Facebook are increasingly prone to hacking. "The popularity of social networks and social media sites has grabbed the attention of cyber crooks searching to pilfer passwords, called "phishing," and steal sensitive personal information. The hackers are exploiting users' sense of safety within these sites," and a smaller network could mean, hypothetically, a smaller risk.

But, at this juncture, is such an approach really practical? Whatever people wanted Facebook to be, now isn't it what it is: less a portrait of who you are than a loosely-drawn map of your history, your interests, your associations? Does anyone go to someone else's page expecting to see only bosom friends? No: for the most part you assume you're seeing a collection of friends, acquaintances and strangers, and we've become as adept at reading and interpreting these as a more straight-forward breakdown. If you want privacy, quite frankly, don't join a networking site anymore. As to unfriending, I get it, but it does seem to me a tad cowardly: much more honest, it seems, to reject someone in the first place. Whopper or not.

Friends, Until I Delete You [New York Times]

Beware of Facebook 'Friends' Who May Trash Your Laptop [Wall Street Journal]

My mother loves the computer. She is obsessed with emails, particularly forwards telling me about the dangers of lemons, the truth about credit card scams, and how we can all find hope in the poetry of a dying child. She and I communicate mainly through AOL Instant Messenger, as both of us are somewhat phone phobic and prefer the safety of keyboards and emoticons. So I wasn't terribly surprised when she asked me about setting up a Facebook account.

"It just sounds like a lot of fun," my mother said, "Do you think I should sign up?"

My immediate reaction was OMG NO WAY NEVER, which I was going to convey to my mother in gentler terms, until she followed up with this, "It would be fun to keep up with you and your sister. But I don't want to look like I'm trying to be young or hip."

Sometimes, you get the kick in the face that reminds you that your parents, in fact, are human beings with lives of their own. All my mother wanted was to connect with old friends, keep up with her daughters, and send little dumb Christmas trees to her nieces and nephews. And yet the 15-year-old in me wanted to keep her from doing so, as if social networking is something that only young people can do, and lame old parents should just stay away from the universe and keep on using their antiquated land-line telephones.

Apparently, many people feel the same way: Alexa Davis of ABC News reports that "the Facebook group entitled 'For the love of god — don't let parents join Facebook' has 5,819 high school and college-aged members who want to stop the growing number of parents who are joining Facebook, the massively popular social networking site, from 'spying' on them." Russell Taylor, a college sophomore, admits that he rejected his mother's friend request, saying, "I don't want my mom commenting on my pictures. That would be weird."

Jeanne Sager at Strollerderby, however, thinks that parents and kids don't necessarily need to co-exist in the Facebook universe. In fact, Sager claims that parents might be better off denying their children's friend requests: "There's Facebook for kids. Then there's Facebook for the rest of us. (or Myspace or Twitter . . . or whatever social media you kids are using these days). Those of us who have opted for a "private" page, wherein we allow only those we've "confirmed" to see status updates and goofy pictures, have done so to keep out anyone who would judge what we have to say on there. For smart folks, that includes their bosses. For parents, it can also include their kids."

In other words, in the same way that you don't want your Mom reading about your drunken shenanigans online, your Mother may just want to keep you away from her personal life, as well. "I'm a fully-grown, responsible adult and mother," Sager says, "OK, according to my mortgage coupon book, I am. According to Facebook, where I just wrapped up a discussion with a friend about Pillow Pants, the vagina troll (Clerks ringing a bell for you Kevin Smith fans?), well. . . you be the judge. What my kid doesn't know won't hurt her."

As for my mother and I, we're currently Facebook friends. There are certain parts of my profile that are locked down so she can't see them; not because there's anything truly scandalous there, but because sometimes, as much as you love your parents, you just need to put up a wall to maintain your own sanity. And also, Mom, stop sending me Little Green Patches or whatever the hell they're called. I love you, but you're driving me insane.

Friended By Mom And Dad On Facebook [ABCNews]
Kid Won't Friend You On Facebook? Get A Life [Strollerderby]
Earlier: Grownups Of This World, Just Get Off Facebook Already