Ever since whatever celebrity wore them first and started the manic scramble for such cheap looking footwear, I have loathed wedge sneakers. Pretty soon, ever major brand and shoe designer had their own version of the suede, rubber, leather, pleather, glitter, spiked, and hardware detailed footwear.
 |
| The standard. |
Let's dissect everything that is wrong here, using the above example as our foundation.
First, they are clumsy. Their design is errant. On any normal foot, this specimen would look like it came directly out of a home healthcare catalog for 1987. Wedge sneakers look orthopedic at best. The velcro staps paired with the seemingly inflatable tongue make these look more like a gag gift than something anyone would ever ask for. When you put this with some achingly tight skinny jeans (which is all I ever see them with) you look like a break-dancing teen from Omaha in the 80's.
Second, they lack purpose. Okay, okay, okay. I knew before I started this post that making a comment about shoes needing to have a purpose would result in my blogger crucifixion, and rightfully so. I will be the first in line to say that clothes don't need to have function to fulfill their style purpose. And that, my friends, is where the wedge sneaker is different. They serve no style purpose, and therefore, should have to fulfill their purpose in function, which they clearly do not do. This is what happens when a philosophy major starts a fashion blog. So, back to the original statement. Why, exactly, would a sneaker need a wedge? A sneaker represents some degree of athleticism, whether it is implied or explicit. A wedge eliminates a degree of control and stability by lifting the heel further from the ground. Much like the platypus, this shoe makes no sense.
Third, they don't look good with anything. This point only applies if I were to concede that these shoes weren't the worst thing gracing clearance racks across the world. I'm not going to concede that point, but let's just imagine that I did for the sake of this third section. If you were to take apart each shoe part from this hybrid you would be left with a wedge and a sneaker. Wedges and sneakers alike, do not belong with every outfit. They lack a certain versatility in that way. A wedge is a safer alternative to a heel, and thus, goes with (most) outfits that a heel would go with. A sneaker is serves a casual, pseudo-athletic, comfort purpose. Putting these two shoes together like some Dr. Frankenstein-esque experiment in fashion does not create an innovative new look, but rather, a monster. The Monster.
Finally, they look cheap. I don't mean cheap in an inexpensive way. As I said before, every designer seems to have their own version of these monstrosities and they can cost over $1,000. I mean cheap in the sense that they look like they were put together from the remnants of other misfit shoes. They fulfill this perception by trying to incorporate 3+ trends in to two square feet (another pun!) of garment. You would be hard pressed to find a wedge sneaker that does not incorporate less than three of the following: suede, zippers, metallics, velcro, glitter, sequins, specialized hardware, camouflage, animal print, spikes, studs, quilting, color blocking, neon, or fringe. These shoes look like rejects. If only we, as a people, could reject their "fashion" advances.
 |
| This pair is over $1,100. |
