I’ve owned exactly forty- three pairs of white trainers in my life. I know this because I sat down and counted them the other day. No, I don’t want to discuss this when my dad calls to see if I’ve “finally stopped buying the same damn shoes over and over.” But I swear, they weren’t the same shoe.
Okay? Not even close. I fell down the rabbit hole starting with a pristine pair of Stan Smiths my junior year of college.
Trevor – you know, my roommate with the adorable girlfriend who wore all-Hugo Boss – came home with not one, but two pairs. Identical pairs.
From Adidas. “Accidentally sent twice!” the rep said.
White lies, kid. Fibs, plain and simple. But like I said, who was I to argue free shoes?
I wore those Stan Smiths all through junior and senior year. Hell, if they’d lasted, I probably would’ve worn them through grad school. We went from box fresh status symbols to campus b!^!chs overnight.
By the time graduation rolled around they had made the trek from “white trainer” to “this vaguely shoe-shaped canvas that remembers every fry stain and late-night pavement your tortured college soul has ever walked” and they were everything from yellow to that mysterious purple stamp thingy from that one place in downtown Worcester that still stains my black trainers to this day. I cried when I tossed them. Ruined, older-than-my-grandfather-but-self-aware-enough-not-to-care white trainers are kind of a rite of passage.
Sure, I threw them out, but first I Instagrammed them. Got a close-up of the bottom of the shoe to memorialize all of our adventures together (see what I did there?). And guess what I still have saved in my camera roll, wedged uncomfortably between selfies for “OOTD” inspiration and pictures of other dogs “I’m saving for when we get Roscoe some buddies”:That photo.
White trainers will forever be a snapshot of your life. American dudes love/hate white trainers. They’re the most democratic shoes out there, but also somehow the most intimidating to buy.
I get more questions about white trainers than literally any other clothing item, which is why whenever I receive a text from someone who’s “in shoes” that just says: meets selfies from every retail website selling shoes with captions like “THESE?? ?” or “too chunky?? ?” or my favourite, from my cousin Mike who still thinks minimalism is something your doctor instructs you to do after gaining 300 lbs: Guys…chill. So let’s get into it. Here’s everything you need to know about buying white trainers sorted by what you ACTUALLY need them for because I promise that does not actually determine what the “right” white trainer is for you. “For when I Just Need Something That Goes With Everything” Guy: Ok, we’ve got to start with some basics.
Adidas Stan Smith and Nike Air Force 1 Low are truly classic choices that you can’t go wrong with. Think vanilla ice cream: everyone’s going to have an opinion on your shoe choice but they’ll also go with anything and everyone has vanilla. The Stan Smith is slightly slimmer and more dressy.
The AF1 is bulkier and has some street cred. Go AF1 if you’ve got some high-waisted, wider leg trousers in your closet that you legitimately wear. Yes they’re back.
Stop arguing with me. I’m a Stan Smith kind of guy. That touch of green (or blue or black if you get the retro versions) at the heel tab adds some interest without screaming look at me.
They retail around $80-90 which I feel like is the sweet spot where the materials are good but you’re not going to stress if someone steps on your foot at the bar. “For When I Have to Look Professional But Still Kinda Cool” Guy: Common Projects Achilles Low. Stop screaming. They’re expensive, yes ($380-400 currently), but also worth every penny if you have the means to buy them.
Made in Italy with high quality materials that WILL last, these are what got an entire generation of dudes through the no-man’s land between office shoes being required and trainers being acceptable at work. The silhouette is ideal – not too bulbous, not too skinny, and a toe box that doesn’t make your feet look like bananas. Plus they age insanely well if you treat them right.
I bought my first pair seven years ago because I was writing a story about “investment trainers” (aka excuse to buy shoes) and I still reach for them all the time. They’re probably the cheapest shoes I own on a cost per wear basis at this point. Good alternatives for the budget conscious?
Greats Royale ($179) or Beckett Simonon Reid ($159). Same aesthetic, less luxe materials/slightly cheaper, but still clean enough to wear with a summer suit or with nice chinos to the office. “For when I’m Always on My Feet”: Nike Killshot 2. These were originally engineered as a squash shoe back in the ‘80s (true story!
I will proudly annoy you with this fact the next time you tell me how great my shoes look) and have recently seen a surge in popularity. I love them because they feel like they have a retro vibe with way more comfort than your average style-first shoe. The gum sole gives them a bit of visual texture and the navy swoosh tones down the pure white ceiling-shocker vibe.
Best of all they’re only $90 and right in that same price point as your Stan Smiths but with *way* better cushioning. If you need something with even more support, grab a pair of New Balance 990v5 in white/ grey. They look like your dad’s Sunday driving shoes and that’s because they are.
Except, not really? I wore them for DAYS covering fashion week recovering from a stress fracture. I know this because said fracture happened tripping *down* subway stairs so I basically lived in them that summer.
And your podiatrist will approve when you tell her you wear NB for pain management. Note: the approval you’ll receive will not happen with your Balenciagas. “For the Snob Who Thinks No One Else Should Have Their Exact Shoes”: Fair warning. This gets slightly more hype beast territory than the rest of the list.
The challenge with really niche trainers is that as soon as they hit Etsy 100,000 channers know about it too. But my mission in life is to provide you with options, so scroll at your own risk. Spalwart is this Dutch company that found an adidas shoe factory from the 1970’s abandoned in Slovakia.
They basically took all the old designs and put them into new pairs of trainers. I love their Marathon Trail Low in white. It has a subtle athletic vibe without screaming vintage sweatshirt tee.
Stepney Workers Club is a British shoe brand with tons of hypebosstye cred. Think about Vans but with actual texture at the toe and a squared-off toe box that trainer enthusiast types will appreciate. Finally, we have Shoes Like Pottery.
This might be my favourite. They’re Japanese canvas high tops that are basically Converse qualityTHINGIESASTERIOUS. Yes, it had to be done.
Made in Japan, each pair is kiln fired – hence the pottery comparison – to create a vulcanized sole that’s much harder than your average trainer. Downside? They’re almost impossible to find here in the States!
They only stock them at a handful of shops, so you’re unlikely to run into someone with the exact same pair. Score. “For When You Actually Need These Things to Survive Real Life” Listen. White trainers are a lie.
They are marketed to us by people who neither have children nor walk to work in places where it snows. If you need a shoe that’s actually gonna get you through life, cheque out Veja V-10 ($150) or Nike Blazer Mid ’77 ($100). The Veja’s have a textured leather that hides scuffs and wear better than traditional white leather trainers.
The V logo at the side also gives enough detail that people actually notice the branding instead of throwing them at your face should you get mud on them. The Blazers also have a much higher heel which helps keep dirt away from your ankles, but also gives them a vintage-inspired look that doesn’t look completely white (aka they look loved already so additional wear isn’t as noticeable). Did I mention these?
NO I DIDN’T THROW YOU OFF GUYS. I HAVE TESTED THESE ON FUNKY FLOODING IN THE NYC SUBWAY (don’t ask), THREE MUSIC FESTIVALS, AND ONE REALLY DISGUSTING BROOKLYN STREET. All without a suede protector, might I add.
But they’ve still never looked dingier than “my dog slept on them.” Which is to sneakerdom what Vogue is to the rest of the fashion industry. The absolute standard. I could give you a whole seperate blog post on white trainer care (because let’s be real, that’s where most of us go rogue), but I’ll keep it quick: shoot them with a protector before you wear them outside for the first time.
Jason Markk makes a great one but honestly Target brand spray will keep your trainers fresh longer than skating without any at all. Get yourself a holder of trainer wipes so you can give them a quick freshen up when you get stains or grit (I keep a stash at my desk for spills and surprise rainstorms). Accept that your white trainers will never look brand-new after wear and remind yourself that no one really cares that much.
My favourite pair of white trainers? Easily a relatively inexpensive pair of Reebok Club C 85s I got three years ago. They’re soft as butter now from hundreds of wears and miles.
We’ve been to Paris together (don’t judge me – I packed only one pair of shoes and had to wear them with suit trousers and jeans) and pretty much every dive bar in NYC.
Hell, they even made it through a semi-formal wedding after my luggage got lost since they paired perfectly with my full grey suit. They’ve been dipped in mud in Scotland.
Splashed in Yellowhammer beer in Alabama. Kicked through rocky hiking trails and every embarrassing mishap you could imagine. And you know what?
They still look awesome because every scuff has a story. Trust me. Buy white trainers that work for your life, not the aspirational life you only show on Instagram.
Break them in properly. Clean them when they need it and don’t stress about them being “perfect”. Hell, when they get too loved take a picture of them first so when you find the exact same trainers two years later you have concrete proof of whether your old ones were more “off white” or “true white.” Trust.
Me.
