THE GREAT SHOE SHOWDOWN
A true Birkenstock believer attempts to persuade our writer to forsake style for comfort.
The Great Birkenstock Faceoff began with a question posed among colleagues: Were there any fashion trends we felt so strongly about that we’d categorize them as “trends we say no to”? Having just returned from covering the New York Fashion Week Men’s shows, I had a particular piece of footwear in my crosshairs: The Birkenstock.
The sandal-shoe’s revival started in spring 2013, with the company’s classic Arizona sandal seen on runways from Givenchy and Céline to Michael Kors and even on the feet of fashion editors like Eva Chen. At the men’s shows I had just seen, the casual Birkenstock paired with everything from beach wear to suits to ... socks.
I was not impressed and hammered out my indictment of the shoe:
“Welcome back, Birkenstocks and related eyesore sandals. You were not missed. For men and women alike, the shoes your middle-school friend’s hippie parents made uncool are here again. ...
“Just remember: The last
“Tony, I very much enjoy your writing. However I believe you have it ALL WRONG when it comes to Birkenstock.” David Kahan, Birkenstock USA CEO
person to successfully pull this look off was Jesus, and even though he could turn water to wine, he still couldn’t turn the Birkenstock into a trend that we can in good faith promote.”
As soon as the story went live, the reader feedback began. Some cheered me on: “Next to bare feet, nothing said ‘hippy’ like those fuggly Birkenstocks,” one comment read, but the vast majority of responses were in the Birkenstock’s defense, the strongest worded being:
“It will be a cold day in @#$# before you wrest my berks (sic) from my cold, dead toes.” I had hit a nerve. Then I received an e-mail with the subject line: “From David Kahan, CEO Birkenstock.”
“Tony, I very much enjoy your writing,” the message began. “However I believe you have it ALL WRONG when it comes to Birkenstock.”
Kahan’s e-mail went on to relate highlights from the German brand’s 241-year history (including the story of Margot Fraser, who brought the shoe to America in 1966), share stories of happy customers, and defend both the Birkenstock’s aesthetic value and its DNA as a “comfort shoe.” When waxing poetic
about the sandal’s signature footbed and the simplicity of the cork and leather materials, Kahan asked: “Is it any wonder that Apple founder Steve Jobs was a Birkenstock fan? Who knows — it may be a stretch but maybe Birkenstock influenced Apple’s design simplicity?” He closed with an invitation to visit the company’s U.S. headquarters in Novato where he offered to outfit me in a pair of my very own “Birks.” Then he issued a challenge: “I will bet $1million YOU experience the positive comments that we all get every day when in restaurants, stores, airplanes, the street, when another Birkenstock fan notices your feet and knowingly gives you a smile or a thumbs-up.”
Any CEO as passionate about his product as Kahan, whose resume before Birkenstock USA includes leadership positions at Reebok, Rockport and ENK International, was a man I wanted to meet. I wrote him back and accepted his challenge and added my own condition: I would let the Birkenstock team outfit me in a pair of sandals of their choosing (even with socks)
if I could select a pair of shoes for Kahan reflecting my taste. We’d metaphorically walk in each other’s shoes.
The Great Birkenstock Faceoff was on.
Kahan and a member of his team arrived at The Chronicle loaded with shoeboxes. I presented him with options from Beneduci Shoes, a Mission District business run by Frank Beneduci, who crafts all his inventory on 1930s and ’40s shoemaking machinery that he restores.
“First of all, let me apologize if there were any comments on your story from our fans that were ... Well, we have very loyal fans,” Kahan offered. I joked that in spite of the reader reaction, no one from the “Birkenstock mafia” had sized me for a pair of cement Arizonas. Yet. We were getting along so well I almost forgot it was my public critique of his company’s shoes that brought us together.
The moment of truth arrived: We opened the boxes containing our new footwear. Kahan chose a pair of Beneduci’s tan Henry boots. Then we settled my selection: A pair of whitesoled, super grip Arizonas with black straps and white buckles. Mercifully, I was told socks would not be required for my look.
“To each their own, but at Birkenstock headquarters you won’t see anyone wearing theirs with socks,” Kahan said.
As I pulled off my John Varvartos boots, my hands trembled. I slipped the Birkenstocks on my feet, stood up and took a step.
Like Bambi learning to walk, I wobbled at first: I was unused to the feeling of a backless shoe and kept gripping my toes, thinking they wouldn’t stay on.
“Don’t worry,” Kahan assured me, “It takes a second if you’re used to wearing something less comfortable to adjust.”
He went on to compliment Beneduci’s boots, favorably comparing the footbed to the
Birkenstock’s own. Once I got my equilibrium, we headed onto the streets of San Francisco.
As we walked about SoMa, through Yerba Buena Gardens, up Maiden Lane and around Union Square, both Kahan and I managed to move freely in spite of the shoe trade. As we walked, we talked; Kahan had moved to the Bay Area from the East Coast to take his job at Birkenstock USA in 2013; he and his wife loved California living (Birkenstock weather all
year!). I asked him how he felt about luxury brands embracing the Birkenstock.
“We love that these companies suddenly get us,” Kahan said, “But our true goal is to keep the longtime wearers who’ve been with us for years part of the fold. We’ll never abandon that core, comfortmotivated customer.”
When actress Julianne Moore came up in conversation, Kahan excitedly proclaimed she was a friend and longtime fan of Birkenstocks. After winning her Academy Award this year, she even changed into a pair of gold Birkenstocks that David had sent after her Golden Globe victory that she had been too superstitious to don before the Oscars. We discussed Birkenstock’s upcoming venture into non-sandals: The Aaron sneaker and the Gilford boot, both totally un-Birkenstock in appearance, but built with the same comfort in mind. As we sat down for an iced tea in Union Square, we even met a Birkenstock fan, Steve Aquino, who was prescribed the shoe by a doctor to help with his plantar fasciitis. Kahan beamed as Aquino complimented the shoe.
Finally, we returned to The Chronicle to change back into our own shoes. As much as Kahan complimented the quality of the Henry boot, he sighed happily as he slipped into his Monterey Birkenstocks. We shared a warm goodbye. Then I raced back to the Style section and yanked the Birkenstocks off my feet with my own sigh. “I promise I’ll never desert you again,” I said to my Varvatos boots as I slipped them back on, “You complete ... my look.” After a lifetime of shunning comfort footwear in favor of fashion. I wasn’t going to embrace the Arizona overnight. Maybe the Great Birkenstock Faceoff didn’t make a convert out of me, and I didn’t win the bet, but it did make me a new friend.
That night, I received another e-mail from my pal David, a.k.a. the Birk capo.
“I appreciate your entry into the Birkenstock ‘mafia,’ ” Kahan joked, “You are officially a made man.”
If the CEO of Birkenstock and an anti-sandal fashion writer could share an in-joke, nothing was impossible.