More Crocs, Less Louboutin
Shoe snobbery as cultural metaphor
Tevas, Crocs and Vibrams, oh my. It’s quite possible that this group constitutes the full gamut of socially-rejected footwear styles. Variously evoking humor, disgust, even anger, how is it that what someone wears on their feet can bring forth such visceral emotion? Certainly personal style is totally subjective. There are no hard and fast rules when it comes to wardrobe choice, really. We’ve got some commonly acknowledged guidelines, maybe, but how can these particular shoe types be so universally panned? Let’s look at each one individually, then maybe we can draw some conclusions about the group as a whole.
I first remember seeing Teva’s in the 90s. We were on a kayaking excursion in Kauai, and our guide, Maka, was sporting sandals that were securely strapped to his feet. In and out of the water they held tight and he could hike in them the same as if he were wearing closed-toe boots. If you’ve never seen them before, they’re basically sturdy flip-flops with velcro straps that securely attach them over the top of the toes, up the foot and around the ankle. I asked Maka about them and he shared a story about a former guest who had seen him working barefoot and sent him a pair of these “sport sandals.” Well it sounded like an oxymoron to me, but I saw with my own eyes how well they worked, so the name did seem to hold true: sport, sandals, yep.
While I was marveling at their utility, my girlfriend was snickering quietly, not wanting to offend. I asked her what was up and she went on to explain how, from a female perspective, these were no different from any other sandal on a man (mandal?) not a good idea. Was it the open toe, I asked? The strappy nature of the design? The combination of those two details seemed to be the issue, the whole package. In other words, regardless of the utility factor, if a man were to wear these out on the street, there’s not much chance he’d be able to find a date, if that were his intention. Bottom line: Useful in rugged outdoor situations, particularly involving water, but anywhere outside of the jungle these were a very bad idea.
Crocs. First time I saw these was at a friend’s house. His wife, Sarah, had been gardening out back, and joined us in the kitchen. Right away I noticed her bright orange rubber shoes, with heavy soles, and holes in the top. Having never seen them before, I asked for the story behind them. She seemed quite pleased with them, and offered the story of her nurse friend who had recommended them. Apparently they were quite popular in hospitals, for people who were on their feet all day. Similarly, they had been suggested as great for gardening, as they were ventilated, and provided a cushy layer of padding under the foot. Hm, okay sounds good, but… I mean, gosh, they’re not so hot to look at, are they? “Oh!” Sarah replied, “No, simply awful. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing these outside the house.” Enough said. Brightly colored rubber shoes — clogs, basically — were style poison.
Invented in 1999, and first sold in 2005, Vibram FiveFingers were the first popular consumer version of a shoe modeled to mimic the barefoot experience. Originally targeted toward yacht racers, “finger” or “toe shoes” as they’re commonly referred to, eventually found broader applications across running, water sports, yoga, hiking, and fitness in general. The studies have been done, the data is in, and the majority opinion seems to be that most shoes are built for comfort, but actually aren’t designed to best work with the natural movement of the human body. The closer a shoe can mimic barefoot conditions, the more natural and therefore healthy it is for your body.
Similar to our previous examples, the utility here is very good, but the style not so much. But why are these so universally repulsive in a style context? Maybe it’s the fact that we as humans have never really thought of our toes as exact analogs to our fingers. We know, like and understand putting our fingers into gloves, for warmth without losing dexterity. But gloves for our feet? Shoes with toe pockets simply have no common predecessor in human history. They are totally alien and unfamiliar as a concept. So like any other developmental change based on scientific data, it could take quite a while before they reach universal acceptance, even from a utility perspective. But style-wise? Hopeless, it seems.
So if we look at our examples here as a group, what are the commonalities? At the highest level, we’ve got function over form, which is naturally antithetical to the commonly accepted approach to clothing and footwear. Anything not considered “unwearable” by those in fashion has taken form as a primary concern, then molded the utility (function) to fit within those constraints, dictated by style norms. This is simply the profit motive at work. The more commonly accepted the form, the more likely it is to sell. We like what is familiar first. Then to gradually edge outward from that in small steps is what is acceptable to consumers. But to produce a truly breakthrough product in the footwear space, it must strike a delicate balance between both form and function. In our three examples it seems clear that things are out of balance.
Let’s talk about toes for a second. Foot fetishists aside, the toes are not something we’re overly comfortable with in general. Women, societally forced to put them on display due to deeply-ingrained style conventions, spend millions each year on foot upkeep via pedicures. And the women’s shoe industry did over $100 billion last year, fed by a seemingly insatiable desire for designer shoes. But if you asked 10 women if they would prefer to not have their toes constantly on display, I bet at least 6 would agree. And men are just further along that spectrum. There’s a longstanding, commonly-held belief among men that toes aren’t cool. You can’t be “manly” with your toes on display. Surfers and avid beach-goers are automatically exempt, as shoes on the beach just never make sense. But “mandals”? Bad idea if you’re not within 10 yards of a body of water, and even then it’s a questionable decision.
So what have we learned here? First, function excluding form considerations is a problem. If there are exposed toes, or a toe-focused design in general, that too is going to hurt sales and popularity. But the real lesson here is probably more about what we value in our modern culture. The reason these footwear options are so widely despised (aside from those who choose them) is that they are not “cool.”
It is way more important, culturally in America, to wear things that meet commonly accepted standards of style, vs. those that best serve our needs as human beings. This attitude seems to pervade our culture across media, entertainment, even careers and relationships. A guy deemed cool is much more likely to find a mate vs. someone “uncool.” It can even be argued that cool can get you more easily hired, and maybe even better compensated than an uncool competitor. If we can use footwear as a metaphor for our cultural values and priorities, maybe we should all be wearing a lot more Crocs, and a lot less Louboutin.
