Squealing on Crappy Brands – Yes or No? May 5, 2009

Like their nonvegan counterparts, vegan shoes vary in quality, and in most cases one gets what one pays for.

But, what to do when someone asks for a brand I refuse to carry due to substandard quality? Should I tell them point-blank how crappy they are (and run the risk of getting sued if the brand finds out), or should I drop gentle hints that they aren’t worth buying?

I tend to lean towards the latter, but unfortunately some people don’t understand subtlety. Which makes it even trickier – logically, anyone who doesn’t pick up on hints (especially the extremely obvious ones) is somewhat more likely to be tricked into wasting their money on something they shouldn’t buy.

To give just a few examples:

A few customers have begged me to carry “Brand T.” shoes because they’re one of the only companies that makes vegan brothel creepers. But, I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve owned three pairs of their shoes and all of them were beyond crappy. One pair was way too stiff and really hurt. One pair started fraying within two weeks. The third pair – the absolute worst – had a SERIOUS glue problem. During the course of the day, glue would seep up through the insoles, and by the time I got home from work my feet would be a sticky mess. (On a more practical note, they require a relatively high order minimum for a smallish label, and only offer a few vegan styles. What exactly would I do with, say, six cases of creepers when only about 15 people want them?)

We used to carry “Brand D.” shoes, but had one problem after another with the company. I won’t get into the details, but I will say that quality took a MAJOR dive after production moved to a different factory. Quality problems, in addition to shortening the longevity of a shoe, can indicate use of sweatshop labor, which I find morally reprehensible. They insisted the factory wasn’t a sweatshop, but the quality showed no signs of improving.

We spent ONE YEAR trying to get “Brand N.” to return our calls before they bothered to respond. Then, when we got our first shipment, the shoes were cute and all that, but something was off. The insoles really didn’t have enough padding, ankle strap keeper loops were glued instead of sewn (generally, the more glue used in a bag or shoe, the lower the quality – proper shoes and bags are sewn), and the labels indicated they weren’t necessarily manufactured in the country where the company claimed to do all of their production. Hmm. Worst of all, they hurt like hell. I had one pair of their shoes, which started to really hurt after about three hours of wear. I finally had to give them away – even heavily cushioned insoles and heel liners didn’t make the excruciating pain go away. They were the second-most-painful shoes I’ve ever owned in my entire life.

Complete honesty, or subtle hints? It’s quite a conundrum.

Blind Item: Shoe Shame December 31, 2008

What animal-friendly lifestyle magazine, which sells a fair amount of ad space to veg*n retailers (including yours truly), saw fit to put Payless at the top of their list of veg*n-friendly shoe companies in a sidebar to a larger article?

Words cannot describe how disappointed I am. These people know better. What’s worse, they have people who know a lot about veg*n apparel (myself included) at their disposal. The sidebar should have featured *ethical* companies.

Oh, and do I really have to remind anyone why cheap shoes are still a bad idea?

A Quick Lesson About Value October 31, 2008

Let’s say sisters Jackie and Judy are both newly vegan, and both need new shoes.*

Jackie assumes all non-leather shoes are all alike, and buys the cheapest pair of vinyl shoes she can find at a discount store.

Judy does a little research into which vegan-friendly companies make the best shoes. Stella McCartney’s out of her budget, so she brown-bags her lunches for a while and puts the savings toward a pair of basic black flats from Vegetarian Shoes.

Jackie’s shoes don’t breathe. Her feet sweat and stink.

Judy’s shoes breathe as well as her old leather shoes did, and are even waterproof.

Jackie’s shoes have virtually no support, and after months of wearing the same pair of shoes, her feet hurt. Her doctor warns her that constantly wearing shoes with no support can increase her risk for stress fractures.

Judy’s shoes offer enough support for daily wear, but she might add cushioned inserts from the drugstore if she’s going to be on her feet all day. Her feet are fine.

Jackie finds herself replacing those cheap shoes every 4 to 6 months, since she wears them every day, doesn’t alternate them with anything else, and doesn’t bother to clean or polish them.

Judy buys a second pair of Vegetarian Shoes, and alternates them with her black pair. She airs out her shoes daily, and gives them a good clean-and-polish every few weeks. Ten years later, she gets both pairs re-soled.

Who spent less money, Jackie or Judy?

Jackie averages 2.5 pairs of shoes per year, at $25 each (average cost of a pair of vinyl shoes at the nearest cheap-shoe store), for 10 years.  Total cost for shoes: $625. That doesn’t include whatever she spent on doctor bills for her aching feet.

Judy spends a combined $200 on both pairs of shoes (based on the current average cost of a basic Vegetarian Shoes women’s style). She goes through one tin of polish every two years (based on my personal level of near-obsessive shoe polish use) at $4 a tin. Having both pairs of shoes re-soled costs her $90 (based on the current average cost of shoe re-soling in Orange County and several major metropolitan areas in the USA).  Total amount spent on shoes and maintenance: $310.

Even though Judy had to pay a little more up front, she spent a lot less in the long run. She also looked more polished and didn’t share Jackie’s foot problems. Jackie’s shoes are also taking up more landfill space than Judy’s shoes ever will.

The moral of this story? Don’t let sticker shock scare you out of a good pair of shoes that will last for years with proper care. If you truly cannot afford a good pair of shoes when you need to replace an old pair, at least try to save a little money and buy them when you can. It’s worth the investment.

*Based on two people I personally know. “Jackie” finally stopped torturing herself with crappy shoes.