An unexpectedly useful feature of my Ahnu Sugarpine sneakers—which usually boast one main and two contrasting colors—is as a guide for crafting well-coordinated travel capsule wardrobes.
It may be easier to stick to a neutral palette or always wear black, but my personal style is more ebullient. When you want to wear lots of color, and your outfit artfully combines three vibrant hues as shown on your shoe, you can look really pulled together* instead of clownlike.
I learned this trick as a crutch for home decorating: buy a beautiful patterned object or fabric first, then match paints to your well-designed piece instead of vice versa. It’s easier to get a certain shade of paint than an exact tone in a fabric, and often a lot cheaper, too. Every shade of paint costs about the same per gallon.
Why do I start with the shoes?
Along the same lines, since my choice for shoes is limited by practical circumstances, it is often much simpler to shop for the rest of my clothing to go with the footwear. A simple t-shirt or scarf in a particular shade is also much cheaper than a pair of shoes, and the color selection is almost always wider.
Living with chronic pain—specifically joint pain in the small joints like toes and a foot that once broke and healed funny—means I require custom orthotic inserts to take the pressure off the sensitive parts of my feet. These inserts demand to be worn with a supportive, enclosed shoe.
My podiatrist recommended New Balance sneakers, but I felt constantly sad when forced to wear them as my primary‡ footwear.
I was always aware of my feet; they were blazing beacons of my infirmity. Most tennis shoes are so… sneakerish. Sporty ones made me feel like I was wearing a costume. Plain leather ones struck me as a weird joining of the geriatric with the athletic. They are not me.
Understand that I owned zero pairs of lace up athletic shoes from puberty through young adulthood. My leather walking shoes were Mephistos or Clarks and trended classic/European. After I had kids, I wore leather Merrell Encore mules because they slipped on faster.
None of these high quality brands have worked for me since my feet became problematic. In my old shoes, I can’t complete a trip in and out of the bank, say, without triggering pain that will bother me for days to come. I really must now wear a shoe with comfort features most often found in athletic styles.
Before foot problems, when I dressed up, I wore simple ballet flats in nude, brown, or black. I wore white ones under my wedding gown. I have only rarely tolerated heels as it isn’t in my nature to accept pain for beauty.
I didn’t find self-expression through my shoes. I chose to draw attention closer to my face, hoping to draw the eye to where the brain makes me really interesting.
Anyway, that was the core of my style for most of my adult life.
Today, most of the time, and any time my feet are in pain, I wear Ahnu Sugarpine sneakers or boots.
I’ve got quite a few pairs now, even more than are shown in this photo from last year. I most often wear the five pairs on the right, especially when I travel. Either a neutral (grey or taupe) or colors found in a peacock feather (teal, yellowish green, purples) best suit my typical travel capsule wardrobe.
Though these particular sneakers suit my need for a flexible yet supportive shoe as dictated by my podiatrist, it is the joyful combination of the Sugarpine color schemes that makes them my favorite. If I’m going to wear a bulky athletic shoe, at least make it an exuberantly colorful one.
Travel capsule wardrobes inspired by Sugarpines
Following are examples of how I let my shoes direct the rest of my wardrobe.
This first is one complete outfit I chose to wear aboard a plane for a long flight. It emphasizes the purple in this often worn pair of waterproof Sugarpines. I have teal in both airy mesh and waterproof versions; I wear this color a lot.
This second combination pleases me best when paired with my peridot/acid green Sugarpines, but also works with the teal shoes shown above pretty well.
My trusty teal Sugarpines have helped me coordinate outerwear, as well.
This woven straw Sunday Afternoons. special edition hat is a favorite for sunny summer travel in the city where a big brim is more of a museum/restaurant hindrance than protective shield against strong sun. They’re an Oregon company, to boot.
You can also see that I have both a lightweight down coat (purple, above) and a water shedding Duluth Trading Co soft shell† (teal, below) to literally. cover me for any kind of inclement weather during my travels.
And here’s a very different color scheme that I might employ when I want to be a little less vibrant during a journey. These Sugarpines were brand new, so I still had the box with the specific color name to share: Alder Bark, a.k.a., taupe.
I have a pair of Ecco boots in a similar taupe/mushroom color. While not something I could designate as a walking shoe at this stage of my life, they are sufficiently comfortable for me to wear them out to dinner or in other situations where I might prioritize style over support.
The Angelrox.gloves paired with the shoes are showing two of their colors: Cacoa and Nude. I’ve written at length about how much I love this woman owned, made in the USA clothing company in Maine for color coordinated, comfortable pieces. Combined with a few touches of vibrant Violet, this is a palette I’m just starting to explore for travel. No small part of it is my joy at having the boots to wear when sneakers aren’t appropriate!
Here’s a close up of Ahnu’s purplish rubber sole together with an Angelrox shawl peeping up at the bottom of the shot in the shade they call Violet. Those are the mesh Sugarpines in teal on the right.
Though the wardrobes I’ve shown demonstrate very different levels of “energy” in terms of brightness and how aggressively I’m exerting my enjoyment of colorful clothes, a surprising number of accessories can bridge them both. For me—admittedly no fashion maven—it was beginning with my wardrobe of Ahnu Sugarpine shoes that guided me toward my now heavily traveled set of useful yet stylish accessories.
Of course, a favorite scarf or shawl—or an even more vital health related accessory like a wheelchair or walker—could represent one’s starting point. The key point I’m trying to make is to make the best of what you must keep about your person; if you’re fortunate enough to have a completely whole and healthy body, you get to enjoy the privilege of starting with anything you love.
My own grandmother employed a shiny, dark red walker toward the end of her life. It was a beautiful color, and, if I required such a device, I’m pretty sure I’d be shopping for accessories to complement it rather than trying to make the thing blend in.
Is there anything worse than drab, putty colored computer, medical, and office devices? Not in my world.
Color makes me happy. I believe that surrounding myself with the colors that I love improves my health, mentally, at least, and probably physically, too. Following your bliss can be taken both figuratively and literally.
Travel can also be stressful, no matter how much one loves it. One way I’ve found to focus on the joys of the journey is by making things pretty where I can. My bag feels just a little bit lighter over the miles when I love it and everything inside.
* A family friend exclaimed about this when I saw her during a recent visit home: “The lining of your bag even matches your outfit!”
Yes, yes it did. I’m tickled every time I pull that level of coordination off. It pleases me greatly. If I can even match my underwear to what’s on the outside, I feel like a downright fashion genius.
Hey, we all need hobbies. This happens to be one of mine.
‡ I wore them happily enough for exercise! It’s a fine brand.
† Once you’ve started gathering a travel wardrobe that adheres to a particular color scheme, it gets easier to snag deals on pieces you want or need when they’re available in your palette. My rain jacket was a closeout at about 50% off its retail price.