Under-the-Radar Kicks That Tell a Story
Plus: shoe charms and Nike's provocative "innovation" moment
It’s Day 6 of my seven-day spring shoe edit and I’ve covered a lot of ground — jellies, boat shoes, thong sandals, mesh, mules and other heels.
Next up: rubber soles. Let me just say—I am not a sneakerhead. I respect the culture and the levels of dedication deeply, but to me, sneakers are just another flat shoe… with a bit more bounce. When I do choose a pair, it’s usually because there’s something distinctive—some allure or backstory.
Lately, I’ve realized my go-to sneakers all share one thing: they’re collabs with a story behind them.
My top three most-worn pairs are:
Converse x Jonathan Anderson that I bought at a Buffalo Exchange in Austin over five years ago.
Vans x Vivienne Westwood: Back in 2019 the punk queen teamed up with the punk emblem of a brand, and when I wear them—especially now—it feels like her rebel spirit is mailing the middle finger (to whomever, those that deserve it most, I believe) with every step, so I don’t have to.
Mimi Plange is one of my favorite designers—her attention to detail and craftsmanship is next-level. As a lifestyle brand, she’s collaborated with everyone from Manolo Blahnik to The Shade Store to Nike. She gifted me the Mimi Plange x LeBron 18 Low “Mad King” kicks that she did in 2022, and I’ve been stopped everywhere—trains, streets, even the gym. The unique mix of colors, the details—they tell a story. And on days I can’t find the motivation to work out, putting these on makes me feel unstoppable.
The edit: When I pick new sneakers, it’s almost never about trends, and this short wish list reflects stories and pairs that may have flown under your busy radar.
Sambas and SL 72s are everywhere—and always feel like they belong in a Wes Anderson film. No surprise another collab, between Wales Bonner x Adidas, the Samba Millennium in silver metallic/easy yellow tops my list. With their layered design, they’re a year-round win.
Undercover elevates the skip: These cherry-red reimaginings transform childhood playground footwear into coveted fashion statements.
Feeling patriotic is one thing and loving primary colors and comfort is another. They can be mutally inclusive and if so, it’s great.
Tyler, the Creator is always working. His latest drop is a Converse collab where he remixes pieces from the archive—specifically two icons from the '70s: the Naut-1 and the Coach Jogger, reimagined in a fresh new collection. I also love that the shoes look like grass—it reminds me of the Tyler x Kali Uchis “After the Storm” video. The standout? The Converse x GOLF WANG One Star CC Slip Pro.
Put a charm on it
Shoe charms have been having their bag charm moment, and I’ve decided they’ll be my summer sustainability hack. I shared a pearl favorite in my recent pearls newsletter, but summer you can catch me armed with charms and a toothbrush (yes, for the soles). I'm giving my closet's old guard, like the ones I mentioned above, the refresh they deserve. Anthropologie and Miu Miu have the best selections. Sometimes the best new purchase is the one you don't make.
Gotta get this off my chest
When Sneakers Speak Louder Than Style: Nike’s Dirty AF1s, Class & Cultural Codes
Nike’s new Air Force 1 “Fresh by Wear” sneaker—engineered to get cleaner the more you wear it—does more than flex innovation. It drops us straight into a larger conversation about cultural borrowing, class signifiers, and who gets to “play” with fashion rules.
The all-white AF1 has long carried symbolic weight in Black and brown communities—where keeping kicks pristine wasn't just aesthetic, but a marker of pride, respectability, and survival.
So when Nike releases a tech-enhanced version that seems to invert that idea, social media rightfully asks: Is this progress, parody, or just another co-opting of ‘hood aesthetics for elite appeal?
Fashion historian Kimberly Jenkins, fashion historian, founder of The Fashion and Race Database and cultural consultant to fashion brands, puts it sharply:
“The labor and internalized hyper-awareness of staying ‘fresh’ and clean—especially in Black and brown communities—becomes co-opted and mechanized with this shoe. It’s the privilege of dirtiness and the anxiety of cleanliness, distilled into a sneaker.”
We’ve seen this dance before: Golden Goose’s pre-dirtied luxury shoes. Nigel Sylvester’s intentionally distressed Jordans.
But what does it mean when wear becomes the product—and culture becomes the blueprint?
Elizabeth Semmelhack, Senior Curator of the Bata Shoe Museum, adds:
“Distressed luxury sneakers verge on inauthentic cosplay. Where it worked was Nigel Sylvester’s Jordans, each worn-distressed by design. A shoe that restores through wear? That’s new—but as always, the culture will decide its meaning.”
This isn’t just a sneaker story. It’s about class, coded consumption, and how even our dirt—or lack thereof—can be commodified.