The joy of ‘ugly’ Birkenstocks

Fifteen years ago, when I was a teenager, wearing Birkenstocks meant you were flatfooted or you had no interest in attention from men. While the rest of us clip-clopped around in heels, it was only a brave few who would choose the flat sandal. Your geography teacher might wear them, or your mum when she took out the bins, but no one fashionable would be caught dead in a pair. Television and films encouraged the prejudice. Carrie Bradshaw taught us that you should never stoop so low as flats as she spent every dollar on Manolo Blahniks. And it’s not a coincidence that in Clueless, Travis, whom Cher describes as being from a group ‘no respectable girl actually dates’, has the surname Birkenstock. 

I remember watching a game show in the 2000s, one of those American pyramid ones, and a contestant had five seconds left to describe his final word to his partner and win the jackpot. The word was Birkenstocks. His clue? ‘The ugly sandals that lesbians wear.’ He won the money.

When I was a teenager, I swore I’d never wear those frumpy, orthopaedic shoes. I promised myself that my first real paycheck would go on a pair of red-bottomed heels. But my teenage ideals disintegrated as I reached my twenties and thirties. I never bought those Louboutins and I regularly strut the streets in my favourite pair of Birkenstocks.

I’m not the only convert. This week it was announced that Birkenstock is valued at more than $9 billion, which would have made a teenage me assume the world had become overrun with frumpy geography students. And while millennial teenagers used to avoid Birkenstocks at all costs, now Gen Z teens on TikTok are sharing the best places to get cheap knockoff versions.