Once upon a time, ugly shoes were the butt of every fashion joke. Crocs were reserved for chefs and overworked nurses, Birkenstocks belonged to crunchy uncles on hiking trails, and anything bulbous, porous, or orthopaedic-looking was instantly exiled from street style. But then came Gen Z—digitally native, irony-trained, and gloriously unfazed by convention, and flipped through the script entirely.
Once known as ‘fashion crimes’, Crocs and Birkenstocks ruled the runways. Crocs have shared the spotlight with Balenciaga models. Gigi Hadid steps out in Birkenstocks like their Miu Miu slingbacks. The Yeezy Foam Runner, a shoe that looks like part alien shell, part garden clog, has achieved cult status with resale prices that’d make your accountant sweat.
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But this isn’t just a quirky aesthetic phase. It’s a cultural commentary with arch support.
Gen Z grew up in the age of social media filters, fast fashion fatigue, and 24/7 visual noise. They’re fluent in trends and trained in irony. So, when they embrace ugly shoes, it’s not laziness, it’s intentional. It’s a rebellion. It’s saying no to the decades-old fashion rule that beauty must equal pain. Blisters? Posture ruin? Toe-crushing stilettos? Hard pass.
What’s more, this generation isn’t buying into glamour myths. They’re not seduced by high heels for the sake of tradition. They want comfort, functionality, and a little flair that feels like them. Ugly shoes offer shamelessly.
And while aesthetics matter to Gen Z, so does accessibility. They’re not dropping rent money on designer versions unless there’s a deeper meaning or resale value. They’ll stalk Depop for months, wait for that big end-of-season drop, or cop a perfect dupe that still nails the silhouette. When they fall for a shape, be it the rugged contour of a Teva or the cartoonish swell of a Croc they commit.
Even so, calling it just an “ugly shoe trend” doesn’t quite do justice. It’s more like an aesthetic recalibration. These shoes don’t chase trends; they resist them. They’re too practical to be redesigned every season, too stubborn to be romanticised. They stick out. They clash. And that’s the point.
So no, Gen Z didn’t make ugly shoes popular by accident. They did it on purpose. And if a pair of bulbous foam clogs can say, “I’m comfortable, confident, and don’t care what you think,” that sounds stylish, doesn’t it?