Different seasons of my life can be described by the shoes I wore and this week I am exploring how what we wear ultimately impacts our sense of self and our ability to move forward. I spent the majority of my corporate career working in the shoe industry for an iconic, albeit comfort focused brand. During those years my footwear choices were seriously limited as I was required to represent that brand at all times, rain or shine sandals were required.
Long before said sandals were deemed cool and graced the pages of magazines or the feet of celebrities, this company was catering to a fiercely loyal fanbase and a customer that lovingly and almost exclusively adorned themselves in their shoes. Even then, wearing Birkenstocks was a bit of a statement although not nearly as 'fashionable' or ‘cool’ as they are now.
Pictured on vacation in 2016, coffee in hand, and Birkenstocks on my feet.
Working for a brand that prides itself on timeless comfort did not bode well for my own desire to change and the brand struggled to change and evolve right alongside me. Many of my coworkers, like the original brand fans, had been with the company for decades and almost all of them were loyal to a fault and completely resistant to anything beyond the brown and tan leathers they had come to love. The brand grew and evolved during my time there, but the product was still tied to its roots and change came slowly.
Working in corporate retail and specifically around brand strategy awarded me a unique perspective around the choices consumers make and the ways in which brands work to sell a lifestyle that their customers can relate to. We are all choosing what we stand for, every single day; in the clothes we wear, the brands we support, the purchases we make. Whether we recognize it or not, the decisions we make ultimately shape our lives.
As it turns out, the shoes I wore every single day, for years, encouraged me to quite literally stay the same. Resisting the change I desperately wanted to make because I was surrounded by subtle and not so subtle messages pointing exclusively toward my comfort zone, right down to the shoes on my feet.
We are all choosing what we stand for every single day; in the clothes we wear, the brands we support, the purchases we make.
After quitting my corporate career, I fiercely avoided said sandals despite owning hundreds of pairs. My closet was full of them, but my mind wouldn’t let me put them on. They had come to represent a period in my life I was fiercely trying to move beyond. I did not want a daily reminder of the job I had left behind and I knew my own ability to change and grow and transform was directly linked to letting go of those old parts of myself. Opting out of the shoes I had worn through all those corporate years felt freeing. I was no longer aligned with those values, no longer tied to my comfort zone, no longer that version of myself.
Prior to shoes, I worked for the Gap and that brand was and still is a walking identity crisis - that period of my life, my early twenties, was equally rife with figuring out who I was, what I stood for, and who I ultimately wanted to be. Working for companies and brands that have a point or view (or in the case of Gap, a lack there of) will ultimately impact you, whether you intend for it or not. Building a business or brand will absolutely do the same.
Over time, I became increasingly aware of the ways in which these companies and career paths were holding me back. The never ending corporate ladder does not reward outspokenness, and veering from the pre-laid path is not exactly praised. I continued to pave my own way within these corporations, but ultimately recognized my own desire to grow something of my very own, something that would allow me to be me, unapologetically.
Fast forward a handful a year, and I was ‘ready’ to build something new. To reinvent myself and build myself back up after staying home with my kids, and I was already accurately aware that the clothes I picked and the shoes I wore would ultimately impact my sense of self. They would either hold me back or propel me forward, but the choice was mine.
My first business was grounded in muted tones. I built my brand and my brick and mortar space as an oasis of sorts, an escape from the monotony of motherhood, a place to return to oneself and to your work, while your kids played nearby.
This new version of myself required a new shoe. If you met me during those 3 years, you likely recognized me by my signature checkerboard vans as I exclusively wore them during that time. They became a bit of a security blanket for me. Every morning I would open my closet, put on my vans and then promptly be on my way. No second guessing, no difficult decision about what to wear, just a trusty pair of vans to pull my look together and I was out the door.
Pictured with my kids in 2020, all wearing matching checkerboard vans.
These shoes became a part of me. They were there when I signed my lease. They accompanied me on about a million site visits as we built out my dream. I am fairly certain they were there the day I opened and again, 7 days later 7, when the pandemic hit and I closed my doors. They were there for every single pivot, and they were there the day I broke my lease and released myself from the version of my life.
My checkerboard vans phase was a season in which I tried my best to compartmentalize the different parts and pieces of me, I worked hard to be the best mom and business owner I could be but there were still two very distinct parts of me. I was part entrepreneur and part stay-at-home mom which became even more complicated as the pandemic forced us all home and my business remained closed.
A checkered past or experience means experiencing both good and bad and those vans most certainly saw me through both the good and the bad. Vans are known for being original, creative and authentic and in many ways these were the perfect shoe for that season of my life. I was able to show up, as that version of myself, and I was truly proud to wear those shoes for all those years.
I retired my signature checkerboard vans right around the time I decided to close my space, without fully understanding the significance at that time. The pairs I had worn religiously had finally worn out and when it came time to purchase more, I simply couldn’t. This took me by surprise, but suddenly I wasn’t sure I needed them. Just as my business was now a thing of the past, so were my trusty vans.
I failed to land on a new look for a while. In many ways I was holding myself back, not quite ready to commit to the new me, not quite sure who I wanted to be. And then one day I found them or perhaps they found me, the moment I settled on a new footwear choice, I felt a shift.
In many ways I was holding myself back, not quite ready to commit to the new me, not quite sure who I wanted to be.
My new shoes, that inspired my updated branding and this new version of myself.
The brand, Nike, is not only iconic but has perhaps the best slogan around 'just do it' which is exactly what I plan to do, in my new shoes of course. My new kicks represent the new me, they are bold and bright and colorful and fun. They inspired my updated branding, they helped me define my updated brand pillars, and they will likely be there every step of the way as I once again reinvent myself and my life.
What do your current shoes say about you? What about your style and clothes in general? Do they align with your values? Do they point toward where you want to be going or are they grounded in where you’ve been? Do they still fit?