Stylish Comfort: A review of Vivaia Loafers.
It's been many years since I boarded the minimalist clothing train, and as my journey has progressed I've felt myself depart experiments with pencil skirts and ballet flats and trade them in for more masculine-inspired, sartorial style.
Why?
Because there's something easy about menswear that didn't used to be very prevalent in the women's section.
I think that's already started to change, with a rise of unisex garments and interest in effortless style; but something that seems to be a little slower to the women's department is effortless, simple, fuss-free footwear.
Back in my days of reading French Chic style guides and elegant dressing manuals, I found myself being repeatedly extolled the virtues of ballet flats, as an effortless solution to elegant, fuss-free footwear.
A colleague of mine at the time wore the same pair of ballet flats every single day, with any and all of her outfits, and I have to say, the ease with which they carried everything from jeans, to trousers, to skirts was impressive and refreshing. My problem was, I didn't like wearing them. Not because of how they looked, but because I didn't really identify with them. They didn't look or feel like me.
What I seemed to gravitate towards, were loafers; but at the time, women's loafers weren't cropping up so much. The closest I seemed to get, were boat shoes. The sort of loafer-esque shoe you'd see in resort magazines, modelled on the deck of a boat, with a suntan and navy blue shorts.
But whilst I liked the idea of a slip-on shoe that wasn't a ballet flat, I didn't like the contrast stitching, or tassels, or the fact they were usually nautical themed. (Not to mention, I very rarely ever saw them for women.) I also couldn't shake the association they seemed to perpetuate with retirement in St Tropez. I mean, that sort of retirement sounds very appealing, but also very unlikely; and I have always been someone with a deep-seated need to dress authentically.
I wanted a hybrid. I wanted something that was genteel in its elegance, like the loafer, rather than pretty or girlish like a dance slipper; but I wanted the nondescript, un-deliberateness of the plainest, frankly unimpressive, ballet flat.
Enter, the Vivaia loafers.
I wasn't sure what to expect from footwear that is essentially made from recycled plastic bottles. I've become quite puritanical about adhering strictly to natural materials; and when it comes to footwear, my mantra was simple: cork, leather, canvas and rubber.
However, nothing can shake your steadfast ideals like a shoe that feels like a slipper. As in, an actual slipper; not a barely there, non-supportive, wafer-soled slipper.
I mean the sort of slippers you wake up to every morning, and come home to every evening.
(I actually stopped wearing my traditional slippers when these loafers came into my home.)
The Vivaia loafers are malleable, and can be put in the washing machine. They also bead water, so rain just runs off them. In terms of style, and integrating these unexpected shoes into my wardrobe, they are fuss-free, and nonplussed; which is exactly what I want from my shoes, and the only way to achieve the lofty goals I'd set in terms of versatility from a single pair of slip-ons, is to aim for something painfully discreet.
Aesthetically, I am definitely loyal to leather as a material for shoes, and naturally I would prefer a leather loafer, of course; but, I will say, there comes a freedom with not being so precious about the fabric of your shoes that makes living where I do so much easier.
I live on an island with mostly gravel roads, (to say nothing for my driveway), that is either parched and dusty, or, after a supreme amount of rain, turns to a bed of clay. Combined with beaches all around and very lush vegetation throughout, being precious about the footwear you walk around in is highly impractical.
Additionally, I commute to the mainland for work, where I'm in a very modern, built up city, and need appropriate footwear there, also.
Whilst shoes of natural fibres are an obvious choice for such environments, as above, there's something nice about not feeling protective or concerned about what will become of my shoes after taking them over and through such terrains.
I don't have to worry about the Vivaia loafers scuffing, or scratching up, as the weave of the material is such that it is flexible, and accommodating. They wipe clean, they can be washed in the machine, and scratches don't show.
The soles are also rubber, and provide ample cushioning over all the stones and gravel I tend to traverse.
On the note of the soles, I like the fact they're silent when walking about. Something I've never liked about modern footwear is the clacking sound of heels, (even on flat shoes), making contact with the surface below.
I don't want to announce myself before I've arrived somewhere.
Is there anything about them I don't like?
Two things, and two things only, come to mind.
The first is, as I suspected, when it comes to high temperatures and humidity, combined with fairly long walks, they will make your feet sweat. At least, they do if you're not wearing socks with them. And they look great without socks, so the obvious answer is a low, "no-show" sock, but if you're like me, you have a fairly tough relationship with finding a no-show sock that doesn't show and actually stays on the foot, properly.
The other, is that the ties constantly come undone. I have considered putting a stitch in them to keep them done up, as one doesn't have to undo the ties in order to slip them on. But I am also considering removing them altogether, to see if they are snug enough to not need the ties.
What was it Coco Chanel said, about elegance?
Remove one item before you leave the house.
In a bid to at least keep my shoes looking like a pair, I'll probably have to remove both ties..
You can view my Vivaia video here
Vivaia's website can be found here
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