I walk therefore I am …
… unfashionable?
… unfashionable?
Recently I was playing in my closet, trying to decide what to sell, actually. I started with the things I was considering getting rid of. And I paired them with things I grabbed based on a hunch, or things I knew always worked, or other things I wanted to get rid of. All of it without much thought. And from that I created a lot of looks that were better than usual for me, I think.
And then I shared them on Instagram. And I theorized that without the usual pressures and overthinking, getting dressed was more fun, creative, experimental, successful … and easy. I compared it to how my French is so much better when I get into the Uber with a French-speaking driver after a couple cocktails. Because I lose my self-consciousness. They say the drinks loosen the tongue. Whereas I usually overthink it.
One of my IG friends had another theory: The outfits could be better when they didn’t have real world requirements. Because I wasn’t actually going anywhere. And specifically, that it’s really hard to create outfits when the occasion involves walking.
A Walking Dilemma
Amy, the CD of Tibi, opened up on IG recently to answer questions about what to wear when. Things like new business meetings, hockey games, networking lunches, even a briss. But she didn’t address what’s most pressing to me and I believe to many of us: Yeah to all that, but what about those of us who want to walk there?
I love to walk. More so than ever now. There’s something freeing and powerful about feeling like you can get up and go at any moment. About a life without those shoe-changes-on-a-corner of old. I’m living in Miami within walking distance of the Design District. It was very intentional. Our actual location is a little random, but I only had two requirements: to see a lot of water and be able to walk where there’s so much inspiration: stores, diverse people and families every single day, life, restaurants, even museums. I walk there at least once but more often twice and sometimes three times a day. I have a trainer two times a week, but otherwise this is my exercise and I try to build 10,000 steps for my health.
If I’m not on my catwalk because of rain or whatever in sneakers and workout clothes, I like to dress in a way that my inside is projected onto the outside. In a way that makes me feel part of the community. Respectful and approachable. And I dress to lift my spirits and the spirit of others. Dopamine. Creative expression. That’s a lot for clothes to have to do.
So that means a feel-good outfit I can walk in.
Start Here
So let’s start with this: For me a feel-good outfit has to feel like “fashion.” And to feel like fashion an outfit needs friction. As a graphic designer friend used to say: You gotta have the poison. The mantra I repeat over and over: Until it’s wrong it’s not right.
What’s been feeling off, I realized only today, is thinking about an outfit I like and then picking out some shoes that “go with it.” When really, what I should be doing is picking out shoes I can walk in and then looking at an outfit to counter them.
So let’s use that as a starting point. Look at all the shoes that you can walk in. (I’m talking about 7500 steps, not a kitten heel you can walk back to the hotel in after dinner.) Then counter those shoes. Find their enemy.
The Shoes
Obviously sneakers. But surprisingly, not all sneakers. Amy Smilovic (she’s a current unhealthy style obsession) says “please don’t wear designer sneakers.” She can be strict, that one! But I buy those because I know these brands from their other shoes and so I know they’ll be comfortable. Or at least easy to return/re-sell. Buying a Nike is a gamble. But at any rate, I now have a decent arsenal of sneakers including a neon Nike.
Then there’s something that feels even better to me: grandpa sandals. You know, the Teva-style sandals with that footbed like an orthopedic. I started with a Chanel pair because they just looked comfortable. And they quickly became my most comfortable shoe. (Holy moly; I just saw the resale on these puppies! It’s hard to believe they’re still a thing.) BTW, more and more I’m self-conscious about logos. But I will not sacrifice comfort for anything. So comfort trumps the presence of a logo. After the Chanel, virtually everyone started coming out with the grandpas. On the Prada ones, which I find even more comfortable, you barely see the logo (it’s tone on tone). There are Marni styles without any logo at all. And I pulled the trigger on a gray Dior pair that does have a little gold logo, because I loved the dove color and how it’s a neutral but different than what I already have and won’t get dirty.
And I think grandpas get even more fashion with socks. Like how @thecreativeclassicist pairs her dad sandals from The Row. Though if I did that, I’d want the other elements in the look to be quieter so every part isn’t screaming.
I also have two pairs of Prada rubber fisherman sandals that work well. And I have a broken in pair of Tibi Morris loafers.
The Friction
The Teva style shoes and the sneakers are both styles based in sports world. So to give them friction, you want something as opposite of sports world as possible. For example, I’ve tried them with a neon pink lace skirt. I liked them with a pull-on silky ivory one. They look great with a suit or anything suit reminiscent.
I do understand why Amy says no designer sneakers — they can get a little fashion victim-y. And more importantly, they give less friction. Like putting on an Adidas Samba with a dress or a suit is more unexpected than putting your Prada sneaker with it. Having said that, I really did like walking in a slip dress with a T-shirt under it and my Prada sneakers, which are kind of like a Stan Smith (actual Stan Smiths are too stiff for me I fear).
I also have this Dior running sneaker. The nude color is really flattering. There is no logo I can see. And ironically, it doesn’t make me feel like I’m trying as hard as I would putting on an actual running sneaker for friction. I’m not in fashion, I’m not a runner, I’m not Amy. I’d like to try wearing these with skirts and dresses more. The opposite of a running shoe is … something light, gauzy, lacy, linen, fragile-ish even.
So what is the opposite of the fisherman sandals? On one hand the style is derived from … wait for it… a fisherman. But on the other, they have sort of a chunky heel and can seem little girly. I think socks would help with the friction if it doesn’t make the girliness go too “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” But the better idea might be pairing them with suiting separates.
My other thought would be something lady and refined to counter the rubberiness and lug sole. Like my knife pleated skirts. The bonus is I then might look a little like Miuccia. Always a good thing. Maybe I’d even add a collar of some kind up top.
When it comes to the loafers, I can listen to that Creative Director too. Amy always talks about using loafers to “dork something up.” These I’d pair with anything sexier to tone it down. Tailored shorts. Bare-er tops.
Test Run
So I gave this approach a try today. I wanted to get ready for a walk quickly to make the most of the light. So I tried to channel the vibe from when nothing was at stake and I could just play. I knew I was going to wear dad sandals. So I grabbed the first foil I landed on and felt like wearing: a few years old Tibi sequin skirt that’s loose and has a pull-on waist. I told myself not to think about it.
And then it was easy. I went to the T shirt drawer and landed on my “THE” T, but if I’d had a meeting I would have taken a button down. I chose the gray dad sandal because it didn’t match anything, but black would have been fine. And then a crossbody triangular bag because it’s easy to walk with. I liked the hard lines with the soft skirt.
So I feel like I have a little clarity. Plan a shoe. Pick a foil. Then hit the pavement.