Anything an Adidas Samba can do, a Siesta can do better.Īfter a year with my beloved Siestas, I wanted to expand my repertoire. To me, they’re essentially interchangeable with sneakers. They’re the first thing I pack for any trip, and I know I can comfortably wear them on days when the pedometer hits 20,000 steps. I purchased my first pair last April in the classic putty shade (it’s technically called “bone”) and have worn them constantly ever since, channeling everything from a severe-yet-chic art collector when I wear them with a structured black dress to a casual Brooklyn errand mom when I pair them with jeans, a breezy button-down, and a baseball cap. Each style comes in five widths - slim, narrow, medium, wide, and double wide - to ensure the breadth of one’s foot is fully accounted for. In all my years of thrifting, I would always briefly think What if? every time I came across a pair, but it wasn’t an impulse I took seriously until I was forced to cross the orthopedic delta.įounded in 1976, SAS Shoes specializes in footwear for people with foot issues like plantar fasciitis, arthritis, and diabetes - basically, any medical condition my friend Melissa refers to as “ouchie footsie.” According to the company’s website, “approximately 80 different skilled pairs of hands are carefully constructing and inspecting each shoe to make sure the SAS shoes you choose are the best-made pair of footwear in your closet.” Their comfort is due to both their pleasantly bouncy shock-absorbent soles and their intensely cushioned insoles. Available in colors that range from beige to dark beige, as well as black and white, they’re the perfect shoes for a brisk indoor walk around your local mall or for playing a game of bridge. Less preppy than a Clarks Wallabee and more laid-back than a nursing shoe, Siestas bear an uncanny resemblance to a naked mole rat.
The Siesta is, of course, the puffy, wrinkle-toed wedge most frequently found in nursing homes and thrift stores, freshly donated by relatives of the recently deceased. (I have also long harbored a fondness for grandma-adjacent clothing such as nightgowns and novelty cardigans, so admittedly, these were not too far out of my wheelhouse.) I figured if I was going to be forced into a category of shoes I had no interest in, I might as well lean into their clownish aspect by choosing the most aggressively orthopedic-looking shoes possible. Rather than wade through a sea of footwear clearly designed for the over-60 set in search of some halfway-sexy options, however, I decided to run entirely in the other direction, selecting what may be the most geriatric-looking shoe in recorded human history: the Siesta by SAS Shoes. a pinched nerve), caused by wearing shoes a half-size too small for the better part of a decade, prematurely consigned me to a life of supportive footwear, I jettisoned my beloved shoe collection and never looked back. I embraced the orthopedic life early, at the relatively tender, at least for this kind of thing, age of 32.
Photo-Illustration: The Strategist Photos: They may look like mole rats, but I love my SAS shoes! From left: me in my SAS loafers, Siestas, and sandals.
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