The Best Shoes to Wear for Drinking

An Englishman explores the importance of proper footwear at the pub.

Nick Schonberger

Written by Charlie Morgan (@sofarek)

Ah, the great drinking shoe. Hitting the pub requires considered footwear. You want to look good. You don’t really want to stand out. And, certainly, you don’t want any ruinous experiences with any type of liquid—the inevitable splash back and stench of disinfectant in the urinals make suede and mesh a risky endeavor.

I just moved back to London after three years of living in rural Switzerland, where I work pedaling a authentic Californian brand. Like any Brit abroad there were a lot of things I missed about Blighty, but the one thing I truly craved was the pub.

A real English public house that is, not some ex-pat’s ye-olde reimaging, stuffed to the gills with ‘authentic’ vintage replicas of Guinness toucans sign and other detritus—I’m talking about the bonafide backstreet ‘battle cruisers’ of my youth.

The pub shoe is more about conforming and being one of the boys than it is about trying to peacock.

Sitting in a pub with no real agenda other than perhaps the consumption of a light ale, possibly augmented with the watching of a televised football match, is a simple but necessary pleasure, the want for which is engrained in every true Englishman.

The pub shoe is in itself the by product of many different contributing factors, but let’s not oversell it: It is nothing more than the middle ground between your work shoes and your going-out shoes—shoes either relegated from evening attire or pulled from ranks of functional work clobber to serve their time in the trenches.

For the most part I would argue the majority of footwear found on hype sites is the antithesis of the pub shoe. The pub shoe is not an obnoxious display of wealth. Nor is it a knowing homage to a subcultural reference or heritage trend. It’s just a shoe you wear down the pub for a couple of beers and some banter with lads. It’s more about conforming and being one of the boys than it is about trying to peacock.

Grab your notebooks—here is a crash course in pub-certified footwear.

Written by Charlie Morgan (@sofarek) Ah, the great drinking shoe. Hitting the pub requires considered footwear. You want to look good. You don't really want to stand out. And, certainly, you don't want any ruinous experiences with any type of liquid—the inevitable splash back and stench of disinfectant in the urinals make suede and mesh a risky endeavor. I just moved back to London after three years of living in rural Switzerland, where I work pedaling a authentic Californian brand. Like any Brit abroad there were a lot of things I missed about Blighty, but the one thing I truly craved was the pub. A real English public house that is, not some ex-pat’s ye-olde reimaging, stuffed to the gills with 'authentic' vintage replicas of Guinness toucans sign and other detritus—I’m talking about the bonafide backstreet ‘battle cruisers’ of my youth.
The pub shoe is more about conforming and being one of the boys than it is about trying to peacock.
Sitting in a pub with no real agenda other than perhaps the consumption of a light ale, possibly augmented with the watching of a televised football match, is a simple but necessary pleasure, the want for which is engrained in every true Englishman. The pub shoe is in itself the by product of many different contributing factors, but let's not oversell it: It is nothing more than the middle ground between your work shoes and your going-out shoes—shoes either relegated from evening attire or pulled from ranks of functional work clobber to serve their time in the trenches. For the most part I would argue the majority of footwear found on hype sites is the antithesis of the pub shoe. The pub shoe is not an obnoxious display of wealth. Nor is it a knowing homage to a subcultural reference or heritage trend. It’s just a shoe you wear down the pub for a couple of beers and some banter with lads. It's more about conforming and being one of the boys than it is about trying to peacock. Grab your notebooks—here is a crash course in pub-certified footwear.
Reebok Classics

Whether in form of the Workout+, Workout, Exo Fits, Classic nylon, or classic leather—in black, white, or navy, and with gum sole if you're lucky—these are quintessential pub shoes. Price point and availability were factors in their popularity, purchased on 'the never, never' from the Kays or Littlewoods catalogs, JD Sports, or from the boot of a blokes car for 50% of retail (note: this actually happened to me, never sure if the were snides or legit, either way they were a staple part of my 1996 summer wardrobe that made the pilgrimage to Knebworth in a beat up Vauxhall Astra). While hard to find now, it's funny how discount retailers in the U.S. seem to carry them in abundance while JD Sports, a retailer who’s success must be to some extent built upon the Classics line, struggle with reinventions and limited editions. Sadly but inevitably, like most trappings of the working class, they are finding popularity with a hipster crowd drawn to the laddish connotations and lack of sneaker-head corniness—sooner or later this resurgence and Reebok’s persistent if somewhat erratic push will coincide and they will quite rightly become the preserve of the everyman once more. PALACE know what's up.
Patrick Cox Wanabee

The Patrick Cox Wanabee is the archetypal piss catcher. These were "smart shoes" for places that had strict no-trainers policies. The Wanabee label was a diffusion line, but in turn spawned a million shitty pleather high-street imitators that slowly but surely interbred with a European footwear influences to become the pointy toed preserve of your least favorite middle manager. Girls got in on this one too, and the shoe even made it into the permanent collection at the V&A.
Adidas Superstar II

A b-boy hangover that began with hip-hop, survived baggy jeans, overcame acid jazz, and continued on into Britpop. By the mid-'90s, the original Superstar had become extinct, the stuff of lore and the preserve of proto-sneakerheads. For those us without the sneaker pimp connect, we had to make do with the this less attitudinal silhouette, a far the more flaccid iteration. Its original stance all but gone, the SSII was easy enough to obtain but forget about anything more racey than white/black or black/white colorways. Fifty-five quid from JJB in 1995.
Adidas Samba

Especially favored in the north of England (and among American suburbanites), the Samba is a survivor that somehow held on whilst fondly remembered siblings like the Mamba and Bamba were put out to pasture. I have Glaswegian pals who have worn nothing but since the early '90s—these shoes are as ubiquitous as buckfast and squared sausage in Glasgow's council estates.
Adidas Forest Hills

The casual heritage of these crepes is well-documented, but in truth only a few lads really had these undeniable classics during their terrace heyday (i.e., when originally released in the late '70s). That heritage and some misty eyed memories helped them really come into their own when they were reissued in the Naughties.
K-Swiss Classic

In some ways, the K-Swiss Classic picked up where the similarly named Reeboks finished—a standard leather shoe in available in any color, as long it was black, white, or navy.
Nike Wimbledon

An element of the north-south divide might be at play here, but 'round my way these were as big on football terraces and, more importantly, in the pub, as they were on the tennis courts. Wimbledon's were a simple, clean shoe. But that iconic baby blue swoosh made them hard to ignore.
adidas Campus / Gazelle / Stan Smith

Basic Bavarian bluchers. Timeless and iconic. Like so many pub shoes, these models paid subcultural dues before becoming the preserve of the everyman.
Puma Suede

Afficionados may have favorites, but for pub-wear purposes the Suede—or related, Clyde and Basket—is the only style from the brother Rudi Dassler that matters. Bollocks to any talk of the Speedcat, I'm on a one man quest to irradiate that monstrosity from history.
Clarks Wallabees

Stout shoes for drinking stout. Wallabees have the added bonus of Dancehall heritage, which helps double up the cultural cachet—old-school walking chops from the Padmor & Barnes originals isn't too shabby either. Though suede doesn't play too well in the bogs, the leather versions are undeniable in the pub.
New Balance 576

The ubiquitous 574 is essentially New Balance's version of an American adjuct lager. Passable for mowing the lawn, but lacking the nuances that make other classic models sing. The 576 is a favorite, though the 990 and 1400 are similarly excellent.—Nick Schonberger
Nike Air Max

In the '90s, Nike's Air Max series took root in British street culture. The 90, 95, and 97 (even 1987's Air Max 1) are now standards. Keep to OG color schemes, though. The new hype screams of try-hard hypebeasting—which, as you'll have noted in the intro, is the very antithesis of the great pub shoe.—Nick Schonberger
Fila T1

Things you'll find at a pub: Dodgy nuts, jukeboxes guaranteed to feature "Angels" by Robbie Williams, and a few hardened geezers with an interest in Italian sportswear. The Fila T1 fits the bill if you share similar tastes (or, conversely, if you'd like to bring back '80s NYC drug-dealer chic).—Nick Schonberger

The Best Shoes to Wear for Drinking

Reebok Classics

Patrick Cox Wanabee

Adidas Superstar II

Adidas Samba

Adidas Forest Hills

K-Swiss Classic

Nike Wimbledon

adidas Campus / Gazelle / Stan Smith

Puma Suede

Clarks Wallabees

New Balance 576

Nike Air Max

Fila T1

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