I love stuff. Clothes, specifically. The more the merrier! So much so that the mere thought of a spring clean makes me a little weepy. A hoarder to the core, I can’t bear to let things go, be it a shapeless white T-shirt procured from an ex-boyfriend 10 years ago to an ill-fitting, nauseatingly bright pink prom dress. As someone with an insatiable appetite for nostalgia, it makes sense, these swatches of fabric are a historical roadmap to past versions of self, a portal of fun and frivolity during desperate times (and god, there’s been a lot of those).
Shoes, however, are a far less complicated matter. I am staunchly basic in that department, footwear managing to sidestep my disposition to overanalyse, ooh, just about everything. Here, I unfailingly opt in, come rain or shine, for a pair of black ankle boots. They’re comfy and make me look reasonably put-together and counterbalances a closet that triumphantly fails the ‘capsule wardrobe’ dress code (I simply cannot, will not, commit to beige ambitions, clean lines and a rotation of oversized white shirts – chic as they are – only). Replacing them every year or two, at the request of a nagging family member.
Or so the story went, until fairly recently, upon rediscovering an orange pair of platform-heeled Swedish Hasbeens clogs that had been stowed away in a rogue suitcase. I bought them on a thinking outside of the (shoe)box whim, in my early 20s. We had some good nights out together. And now, here we find ourselves reunited: Spring, 2021. The timing could not be more perfect. Clogs! Are! Back! Baby!
The first whisper of this season’s feet dressing du jour? October of last year, when the barometer of all things good taste – Hermès – debuted studded clogs at Paris Fashion Week (recent designer clog cohorts include the likes of CELINE and Molly Goddard to Marni and Stella McCartney).
The beauty of clogs lies in their versatility. Their fandom far-reaching: from 19th century Dutch farmers, kids under the age of six, to Carrie Bradshaw (abhors scrunchies, loves a clog). They’re a more sexed-up version of Crocs, less intimidating than the much-missed (for some, not I) party heel. The wood-soled slip-on definitely has a nostalgic element weaved into its DNA, a summer of ’69 bohemian lilt – particularly the shearling-lined and/or daisy-strewn styles that seem to be doing the Instagram rounds. For those with more minimalist leanings, Simon Miller's vegan leather “bubble clogs” are exemplary to help ease out – slowly, and comfortably – of a year wearing predominately slippers. Need a little more goading? I hereby present Exhibit A, B, C and...