Why are luxury shoes so uncomfortable?
Many designers are wedded to traditional forms and materials, whatever the wearability — but some are breaking the mould
Designer footwear often looks great but doesn’t feel it. Don’t get me wrong, I deeply appreciate luxury goods. I go nuts for Dries Van Noten and the Belgian brand’s beautiful, quirky shoes, but the insoles feel like plyboard. Marni’s chunky Fussbett sandals are likewise superb, but dig into every tender part of my sole, bringing to mind the time I stepped on an upturned plug in bare feet.
Why splash out on Birkenstock 1774s (which may as well have been made in 1774) when their delicious colours and luxe materials sit atop a sole that feels like carved stone? That sleek leather coating over the cork just renders them less wearable and more expensive. The basic Arizona, at £85, wins hands down.
Are the two things mutually exclusive? Why can a beautiful shoe not also be comfortable? Ulrich Grimm, a shoe designer and product developer who teaches at Parsons school of design in New York, suggests that while “the rest of the industry and the consumer have moved on, designer shoes have simply stayed the same”.
Specifically, makers are still using traditional leather soles. “We have become accustomed to the cushioning of moulded soles footwear [like those found in trainers], even in a professional or formal setting,” he says. “This has created a new standard for comfort that many luxury brands have yet to meet, particularly in non-sneaker styles like ballerinas and loafers. Traditional leather soles do not provide the shock absorption consumers have come to expect.”
Other design elements are also adding to the discomfort. Friends and clients complain of designer shoes with stiff leather, non-existent padding, digging straps and stress-inducing heels. What gives?
British footwear designer Rupert Sanderson suggests that designers too often prioritise form over function. “Comfort is relative,” he says. “There is a trade-off between elegance, heel height and foot coverage”, which can be “mitigated with linings and reinforcements”. Balance matters too, “created through the last [the block that shoes are moulded from] and the heel structure — it’s engineering [and] often gets overlooked in the pursuit of fashion”, Sanderson says. When the balance is off, that’s when you can experience extreme discomfort, even in a low heel.
Deborah Carré, co-founder of London-based bespoke shoemakers and training school Carréducker, recommends looking for shoes with rubber soles and breathable linings. Shoes should also be designed to allow for feet swelling throughout the day — “which is why it’s best to try on new pairs in the evening”, she says.
My own discomfort in designer shoes has been exacerbated by the menopause. According to Helen Branthwaite, chief clinical adviser at the UK’s Royal School of Podiatry, “our feet change as we age — the stiffness of connective tissue can alter the shape. Depletion of the padding in the ball of the foot and shifts in joint positioning mean a loss of natural cushioning. This is especially true for post-menopausal women where loss of collagen affects soft tissue, foot width and collapsing arches.”
Beyond choosing the right shoe (I like those with integral arch support, as offered by Ancient Greek Sandals’ Eleftheria sandal, £129 on sale, ancient-greek-sandals.com), gel insoles from Scholl really help me.
At the recent Liberty sale in London, I spotted a pair of silver pointed-toe Jil Sander heels marked down from £790. I lunged at them, but the joy evaporated the moment I tried them on. Gorgeous? Yes. Wearable? Absolutely not. Even on carpet, they were torture. I considered stretching them, breaking them in, but decided to just leave them behind.
Fast-forward a few months: I am in Massimo Dutti, having a browse. And I see them: heels with the same elegant shape as the rejected Jil Sander, now in oxblood crackled leather and all for £119. The high street is renowned for copying designers and while more palatable cost-wise, its offerings are often lacking aesthetically. Not this pair.
I slipped my foot in and sighed. They were padded all though the insole, not just at the ball of the foot (where I have lost fat in the only place on my body I would rather not) and leather-lined, with a slightly flexible rubber sole. Finally, luxury that feels as good as it looks.
Anna Berkeley is a London-based personal stylist