Courtesy of Ludovic de Saint Sernin

The espadrille is the final boss of the ugly shoe movement

Beloved by X Factor hopefuls and board short-bohemians, the jute-soled slip-on is a scourge on beauty

There comes a point in every man’s life when he is faced with his own failures, but rather than work through his shortcomings, he will lean into them and take pride in becoming evermore grotesque. Perhaps he lives in Clapham or is from Australia or attends Boomtown festival and instead of switching nationalities or postcodes, he decides to send up a distress signal to other like-minded guys. Not quite brave enough to bare all five toes in a flip flop – and Birkenstocks give off an altogether homosexual vibe – he logs onto asos.com and expresses himself with a pair of espadrilles; they are probably TOMS.

Ever since Demna launched his Balenciaga Triple S into the mainstream, fashion designers have been competing to create the ugliest shoe imaginable. There have been vertiginous Crocs, Wellipet mules, and Comme des Garçons’ split-toe Derbies, Puddle boots, winklepickers, and flatform sandals. None of those are particularly pleasant to look at – they are aestheticised, cartoon versions of ugliness – but they’re nowhere near as hideous as an espadrille, which is less a shoe and more the absence of glamour. That became apparent when Ludovic de Saint Sernin debuted his SS24 collection at Paris Fashion Week, dressing every model – some in metal mesh halternecks, others in lace-up briefs – in a pair of jute-soled espadrilles. They looked like they had slipped their foot into a pop sock and trodden on a stale Weetabix. 

The espadrille’s power is to rid an individual of all charisma and sexual magnetism. At least part of this is down to the kind of person that has historically seen themselves in thin hemp soles – namely X Factor hopefuls in H&M carrot jeans and board short-bohemians who know the chords to “Seven Nation Army” and youth hostel workers and aspirant Jason Mraz-types. It is also impossible to “zhuzh-up” an espadrille with the addition of a heel or a spaghetti strap – as de Saint Sernin did – because it then ventures into a ‘Maybe I’m Kate Middleton making an appearance at Ascot?’ headspace. The ugly shoe that even Demna seems to have thought too unattractive to satirise, if men truly wanted to feel every lump and bump of gravel beneath their toes, they should go barefoot. Or wear Havaianas.

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