I've always found it interesting how certain products manage to remain relevant for decades, particularly when very little about their original design has changed. This is something I think about quite often when looking at footwear. We are constantly presented with new collections, new materials and new interpretations of products that have, in some cases, existed for a considerable amount of time. Yet there are certain designs that seem almost unaffected by this cycle.
Birkenstock is perhaps one of the more interesting examples. Here is a company whose footwear has been associated with orthopaedics, alternative lifestyles, the early days of Silicon Valley, fashion photography and some of the most established luxury houses in the world. What interests me is that these associations are often quite far removed from one another. You would not necessarily place Steve Jobs, Kate Moss and Dior within the same conversation, yet each has contributed to the cultural history of footwear originally developed around the anatomy of the human foot.
It is an unlikely journey for a product that was never particularly concerned with being fashionable, especially when you consider how little its defining design principles have changed.
Form Follows the Foot
Birkenstock's history can be traced back to 1774, when a member of the Birkenstock family was documented as a shoemaker in Germany. Over successive generations, the family developed its understanding of footwear and, more specifically, the relationship between the foot and the surfaces beneath it. By the late nineteenth century, Konrad Birkenstock was developing shaped footbeds intended to follow the natural contours of the foot, establishing the signature cork soles we all know today.
In 1963, Karl Birkenstock introduced what would become known as the Madrid, a sandal consisting of a single adjustable strap and a contoured footbed. The Arizona followed in 1973, introducing the familiar two strap design that has since become one of the company's most recognisable products.
Looking at these sandals today, it is perhaps easy to overlook how unconventional they must have appeared at the time.
There was very little ornamentation, the shape was broad, the cork footbed was exposed and the construction was immediately apparent. They were not attempting to imitate conventional dress shoes or present themselves as something more refined. They were a basic and function led design and actually considered unfashionable up until recent years.
Birkenstock's introduction to America during the 1960s played an important part in establishing the cultural associations that would follow the brand. Margot Fraser, who encountered the sandals while travelling in Germany, recognised an opportunity to bring them to an American audience, although convincing conventional footwear retailers to stock them proved difficult.
Instead, Birkenstocks began appearing in health food shops and stores associated with alternative lifestyles, finding an audience among people interested in natural living, personal wellbeing and rejecting some of the expectations of mainstream consumer culture.
I find this part of the company's history interesting because it illustrates how the meaning attached to a product is not always determined by the people responsible for designing it.
As seen all across the footwear brands; identity develops through the communities and subcultures that adopt it. Birkenstock became associated with counterculture not necessarily because the company had deliberately created a countercultural product, but because its appearance, comfort and practicality appealed to people whose values differed from those of the mainstream.
From Silicon Valley to Fashion Photography
One of Birkenstock's more recognisable wearers was Steve Jobs, who wore brown suede Arizona sandals during Apple's formative years. In photographs from that period, his clothing reflects the informality associated with the early personal computing industry. His Birkenstocks appear as an ordinary part of what he wore, rather than a particularly considered fashion statement.
In November 2022, however, a heavily worn pair of his sandals sold at auction for roughly £183,000. The cork footbeds retained the impressions left by Jobs's feet, with the material visibly changed through years of use, this was considered provenance and actually helped increase the hammer price.
There is something quite revealing about that. A relatively ordinary object, originally valued for its practical qualities, had become valuable partly because of the life it had lived.
The wear and patina was central to its provenance and story. It raises an interesting question about how we assign value to objects, particularly when we often associate desirability with condition, rarity or the name attached to something.
By the beginning of the 90s, Birkenstock was finding relevance within a completely different demographic.
Kate Moss appeared in photographs by Corinne Day for The Face, wearing Birkenstock sandals. The editorial became closely associated with a change in fashion photography, moving away from the highly constructed glamour of the previous decade towards images that felt more immediate and informal.
The clothing appeared relatively ordinary and the styling was understated. Birkenstock fitted naturally into this visual language, despite having spent much of its history outside conventional fashion. Its sandals were broad, functional and unconcerned with the usual expectations of elegance, yet those very characteristics were becoming increasingly desirable.
The shape and construction remained familiar but what changed was the context that surrounded the shoe. It changed how people saw it. Fashion had begun to find value in objects that previously existed outside its accepted boundaries, and Birkenstock had become part of that conversation almost unintentionally.
From the Everyday to Dior
Birkenstock's relationship with fashion continued to develop over the following decades, eventually arriving at a point that would once have seemed quite unlikely.
In January 2022, Dior introduced a collaboration with Birkenstock as part of its men's Winter 2022 collection under Kim Jones. One of my own personal grails it was a redesign of the Tokio and Milano models through the lens of Dior.
The collaboration introduced different finishes, hardware and treatments to the familiar silhouettes. Yet beneath these changes remained one of the most important components of the original footwear: the anatomical cork footbed.
To me, this is what makes the collaboration interesting beyond the obvious relationship between a luxury house and an established footwear manufacturer.
Dior had taken something originally developed around practicality and placed it within a completely different cultural setting again, without abandoning the principle that made the product distinctive in the first place.
There is a tendency within fashion to associate progress with constant change. New shapes, new materials and new interpretations are presented as evidence of development, and while experimentation is important, I think there is something equally interesting about a design that remains relevant without needing to be fundamentally reinvented.
Birkenstock's cultural significance has changed considerably over time, but much of its appeal and fanfare still comes from the same construction and comfort that informed the original sandals.
Birkenstock 1774 and a New Design Language
More recently, Birkenstock has begun exploring what happens when those established principles are applied to entirely new footwear designs.
Through its premium 1774 line, named after the year of the company's earliest documented origins, Birkenstock has developed a space for more experimental collections, elevated materials and collaborations with designers whose work extends beyond its familiar sandals.
One of my favourite developments released last year was ENSEMBLE 1774, a creative platform operating through the company's Paris based studio. For its first collection, Birkenstock invited footwear designer Thibo Denis to develop three new silhouettes.
Denis is an interesting choice, particularly given his previous work at Dior and Louis Vuitton. He was also involved in the Dior by Birkenstock collaboration in 2022, which makes his return to the German manufacturer a welcome return for me.
The resulting footwear is quite different from what many people would traditionally associate with Birkenstock and its something i welcome.
The Goerlitz, Uerzell and Stroedt take references from sports footwear, outdoor design and everyday shoes, introducing more sculptural proportions and contemporary forms.
The Uerzell is particularly interesting because it occupies a space somewhere between a sneaker and a mule, while the Goerlitz incorporates exaggerated proportions and a more technical appearance.
Rather than the traditional cork footbed associated with the classic sandals, these designs incorporate Birkenstock's removable anatomical Blue Footbed. The company's approach to foot support remains central, even when the shape of the footwear changes considerably.
There is an interesting relationship here between heritage and experimentation. Birkenstock has spent decades establishing an identity around a relatively small number of recognisable forms, yet the 1774 programme suggests that its understanding of comfort and anatomy can be applied beyond those established silhouettes.
The collection has continued into 2026, with further interpretations of Denis's original designs through new colours and materials.
I think this is an important distinction when discussing the evolution of a brand. There is a difference between repeatedly reproducing an established product and using the knowledge behind that product to develop something new. The former preserves an identity, while the latter tests how far its underlying principles can be taken.
In Birkenstock's case, the two approaches now exist alongside one another.