The French have long nailed the ballet flat. It’s practically a prerequisite to being Parisian, right up there with the petulant pfffftttssss, strong coffee and that insouciant, undone-but-somehow-still-glamourous thing they do so well. So imagine my surprise when the streets–stretching from the Marais to the 11th arrondissement–weren’t dotted with scruffed-up Chanel flats or ballerina-esque Margiela Tabis, but with trainers. Yes, trainers. Worn by all the coolest girls.
Now, I’m not a sneakerhead—and frankly, I’ve never been particularly enthralled by the whole athleisure culture that’s swept through most urban cities. I always felt a quiet kinship with Parisians, who are almost aggressively indifferent to exercise and would sooner be caught dead than in yoga leggings or overt workout gear. So to see trainers worn so nonchalantly, looking pulled together and every bit haughty despite their casual ease, I was forced to reconsider my stance.
To be fair, these trainers were miles away from anything resembling performance wear—or those gargantuan Triple S Balenciaga sneakers that once dominated pop culture. A tricky silhouette that somehow made sense on spindly legs and required a certain froidure to pull off (you need real attitude to wear a shoe like that). Instead, the trainers spotted all over Paris were their polar opposites: anti-bulk, barely-there soles with a retro bent. Dries Van Noten’s versions were a clear hit – suede, sorbet-coloured, and everywhere. Another strong contender was Margiela’s newly launched nylon Sprinter, seen in soft pastel hues, as well as a snazzy acid green number that all but dominated. Wisps of sneakers, really. So compellingly chic, I was ready to throw all my trainer tribulations out the window. Fashion is fickle–and, seemingly, so am I.
Clearly, Parisians, and all the…
