You Are What You Wear

I wear my heart on my shoes.

By Ashley Sudeta

Doc Martens

If you see me fighting the campus turkeys this April, mind your business; I’ve let my Doc Martens get to my head. I’m usually as placid and sleepy as a tortoise, but a pair of black lace-up boots feel like Caribou started putting invincibility in their lattes. These boots might be known for breaking feet, but once you show them who’s boss, they become a second skin, shielding your fluffy wool socks from the elements. Whether they make me look more tough or like an awkward farmer is irrelevant; I’m too busy stomping to class.

Converse High-Tops

No shoes exude fun and versatile vibes like Converse sneakers. I wear them to the state fair, class, and then work. They’re a carefree summer in a canvas and rubber package. If my Chuck Taylors are on my feet, I’m mere moments away from dancing on a table like I’m in The Breakfast Club. They're a beacon of whimsy, too, an invitation for others to join in on the experience and fuel the fantasy. Chuck Taylors are my tiny dog shoes, going everywhere (even places they shouldn’t), pushing boundaries, and encouraging moments so unserious that you can’t help but smile.

Reebok Classics

You’re struck by the sight of a retro, preppy dream power-walking across campus, but no, it’s just me. The secret sixth member of the Backstreet Boys was rescued from the Bermuda Triangle and is trying to answer questions in your class. I am a 1990s heartthrob, reanimated from the yearbook. I’m the girl who is the boy you want to take home to your parents. Over dinner, I will charm them, and your mother will realize that you’ve finally made a good decision for once in your life. It's weirdly cool to wear shoes your mom grew up with.