Small Bite 009: The Boat Shoe Conundrum
Apparently we *are* doing boat shoes this summer.
More often than not, my dad is wearing the same uniform while gardening: a tucked-in pique polo shirt, a pair of pleated shorts, and a pair of old Sperry Topsiders. I never thought much of this growing up but now that I’m in the garden myself, I appreciate his sartorial choices far more than I ever did as a 10-year-old ruining his lawn with my lob wedge.
I grew up in a Northern Michigan lakeside town that often tends to skew preppy — specifically during the summer. Boat shoes were standard protocol, with their moment really peaking at the end of July during a local boat shop’s weekend-long regatta, Ugotta Regatta.
When you’re young, everything seems normal. Especially when you’re growing up in a small town of fewer than 2,000 people. For this very reason, it’s why I had boat shoes for any occasion without thinking twice. These ones are for everyday use, these ones are for going to a nicer dinner, and these ones should probably be used on an actual boat. Again, normal.
And then, Texas. When I moved here from Michigan ten years ago, I hadn’t owned a pair of cowboy boots since my parents took us to Montana when I was in 1st grade. The decorative embroidery, the heel, the high chute — while these are functional on the range, their purpose becomes moot when worn to an oyster bar. In my eyes, the hesitancy around boat shoes made little sense to me when boots feel all-the-more costume-y.
What I soon found out was that not only did I need to accept my new normal, but I also needed to begin defending the very shoes I grew up on. Men here largely considered boat shoes to be less-than, in the same class as the early 2010s Southern polo companies who made a killing on colors that should be reserved for Easter. They were preppy in the out-of-touch fraternity way, not in the aspirational Ivy League or JFK-on-a-sailboat way.
The landscape has, however, changed. Whether it’s a group dinner or your discover feed, the rise of boat shoes seems to be ushering in a renaissance for the style. A passage from How Designers Are Revisiting Boat Shoes, a recent piece from The New York Times Style section:
“The sudden re-emergence of the boat shoe in fashion is partly a reaction to sneaker fatigue,” Mr. Jules, 60, said on a call from his home in Paraguay. “With sneakers, you’re so overwhelmed by details that you need a manual to know how to wear them.”
Conversely, as any yachtie can testify, Top-Siders are so elementary in their design they barely qualify as a shoe. And though the style has been reinterpreted in pop colorways, metallics and subject to cool designer affiliations (most notably a fashion-bro-friendly collaboration with Chris Echevarria of Blackstock & Weber), it is the classic version that continues to resonate.
“It’s the style iconography,” said Jonathan Frankel, the president of the Aldo Group, whose portfolio includes Sperry. “It ain’t broke, so don’t fix it.’”
Who’s to blame? Well, probably Miu Miu. Spring/Summer 24 specifically.
I always wondered if there would be a shift from the narrow Belgian-style loafer to the more casual and wider boat shoe, yet I didn’t occurring for the price of $995. Of course, as with all designers these days, you can buy unbranded dupes on Amazon for the fraction of the price. “I actually like that they don’t have the branding,” you’ll say when someone asks if they’re authentic.
What we’ve seen since is what we always see: brands following the hottest item in any given season directly into the sun. But in this case, I think I’m okay with it as long as it means my feet can return to their childhood state and further avoid cowboy boots.
This spring, my favorite pair has come from a brand that’s on a major upswing: Noah. Their Beaded Boat Shoe ($288) adds a campy feel to a market saturated with overly-preppy connotations.
My purchase of them last month meant that I was ending a decade of abstaining from the style altogether. After ten years of pivoting to Vans and Nikes, my feet felt a comforting sense of familiarity in them. Or, at least, the third pair I got because I learned you have to do a full size down.
Now? They’re everywhere. Embossed logos, messy laces, in all shapes and forms.
Will the rapid ascension in popularity normalize these? Do certain areas of the country still allow boat shoes to carry so much maritime ick that they never become mainstream? Most importantly, am I going to be the only one wearing them to dinner with friends? If so, that’s not necessarily a bad thing as long as they’re not joking about them in a side text.
But don’t look at me — I’ve already assumed responsibility and purchased a pair because this is a wave that I never really wanted to get off in the first place. While prices aren’t the $60 I used to pay at our local boat shop for a pair of size 8s, I already know that my cost-per-wear will work itself out when summer comes to a close.
Now I just need to find some that would be good in the garden.
Boat shoes may be the first trend I’ve just worn right through the whole cycle. Maybe I’ll buy a “fancy” pair to wear and save my ancient well loved pair for the actual boat?
My closet is chock-full of boat shoes (worn on actual boats, too). I feel so hip and on-trend. ⛵