Girlhood, deconstructed: Last year it was Barbie pink. This year it’s BRAT green. Join as we untangle the evolution of “girlhood.” (Yes, Simone Rocha sneakers, Girls reruns, and Sandy Liang’s pink ribbons included.)
In case you missed it, sneakers are for girls now. Sure, there have always been dedicated sneakers for women. However, society’s newfound hyper-femme Midas touch has since turned everyday 1-2-3s into “girl math,” and the little black dress Barbie pink. Even sneakers, once a predominantly masc niche, are deliriously overcome with so-called girliness.
Say we hop in a time machine and go back to the sneakers before girlhood’s takeover. Functional outdoor shoes, lifestyle sneakers, and the classic performance models ruled (and they still do), rendered in the earthy shades and classic neutrals that were available only in sizes 7M and up.
Nowadays, those same sneakers are covered with embroidered flowers and wearing strings of lustrous pearls. This is the state of the sneaker nation: Super-sporty sneakers reborn as dainty ballet shoes, techy trainers transformed into Mary Janes, and comfy classics reimagined with towering heels. Sneaker culture has broadly fallen under girlcore’s spell, proudly wearing softer trinkets and incredibly feminine design concepts. Elegant polka dots blanketed PaperGirl’s ASICS GT-2160 sneaker collaboration released this year. Caroline Hu decorated her adidas Samba in bountiful lace during her Spring/Summer 2024 presentation, while Simone Rocha turned Crocs’ toughest trail shoe into a bejeweled arts project for the warmer seasons. And in the summer of 2023, Sandy Liang dressed up rugged Salomon shoes in the most delicate colorways. The rest is girlhood history.
Now, the girlification of shoes is so widespread that even the brands themselves are in on the action. adidas is selling Samba sneakers with silky ribbons for shoelaces seemingly inspired by the girlified customization trend. Salomon retooled its recovery slide as a dainty Mary Jane (or “Marie Jeanne,” in the company’s native French). At the same time, Nike’s famed Dunk Low has embraced lustrous bow-tied shoelaces and pink paws, while Vans is dishing out crocheted remakes of its iconic Half Cab model.
Girlhood may have been pitched to consumers as a chance to reclaim the aesthetics of the feminine –– and define them in the process –– but not every experience of life as a girl is the same. Girlhood, the word, is broadly used to describe the time when young girls get to be, well, young girls, navigating the ups, downs, highs, and lows of life before adulthood. For some, it may have looked like Barbies and Bratz dolls, hair bows, Lip Smacker balm, and That’s So Raven. This writer’s pre-adult era included most of those nostalgic items — throw in Bobby Jack graphic T-shirts and cropped cargos. (And if I had to wear a skirt or dress, I’d ask if I could wear my sneakers with them. Today, this is still partially true.) Whatever girlhood meant for each one who lived it, the defining feature is that it was everything that came before the “grownup” feeling washed over, typically about the time you entered the teens.
But girlhood has taken on a new meaning since the summer of ’23, when across social media phrases like “I’m just a girl” and “coquettecore” signaled an adult adaptation of “grownup” clothes to include the stuff from “girlhood” that, unlike symbols of boyhood, weren’t supposed to follow you past a certain age. This contemporary girlhood is all about reclaiming that delicacy and youthful innocence associated with those special years. And from an aesthetic perspective, today is also about wearing girlhood proudly. Symbols of girlhood — flats, florals, frilly lace, glitter, crochet, all things pink — have since spilled over from clothing to shoes and, most meaningfully, sneakers.
What started as the retrofitting of “regular” sneakers by designers and consumers naturally turned into the efforts of the brands themselves. Though it looks like it all happened last summer, what we’re seeing now is actually the long tail of an industry copping to the importance of letting women design shoes for women.
Even a few years back, women-designed sneakers were still a true rarity. This is a generational issue: By the time that hoops legend Sheryl Swoopes became the first woman to get a signature basketball shoe, the Air Swoopes, in 1995, Michael Jordan was already several signature sneakers deep.
When artist and creative director Vashtie debuted her inaugural Air Jordan 2 project in 2010, she became the first-ever woman to design her own Jordan sneaker. And before racking up Jordan collabs like Thanos collecting Infinity Stones, Aleali May became the first woman to design a unisex Jordan sneaker: a luxe corduroy makeover of the Air Jordan 1 High “Shadow.”
Although few and far between, women’s impact on sneakers continuously spoke volumes. German designer Jil Sander and PUMA collaborated in 1998, resulting in not only a timeless King sneaker but the early groundwork for fashion and sports partnerships as we know it today. In 2007, Vanessa and Angela Simmons launched Pastry, carving a unique lane with a line of sweet-themed girl sneakers balancing streetwear, luxury shoe designs, and lots of feminine energy. Pastry has since rebranded as a dance shoe label, but the original sneakers remain some of the most culturally significant footwear of the 2010s.
Many other women designers have risen in the following decade, including Melody Ehsani, Olivia Kim, Cactus Plant Flea Market’s Cynthia Lu, Beth Birkett Gibbs, Nina Chanel Abney, COMME des GARÇONS’ Rei Kawakubo, Nicole McLaughlin, Danielle Guizio, and Grace Wales Bonner. Some have girlified their sneakers with memorable reworks like Cecilie Bahnsen’s ballerina-like ASICS shoes, Kawakubo’s Nike Premier heels, and Susan Alexandra’s glitter-infested Vans Style 93 sneakers.
All have proven the power of inclusion in sneaker design, opening the doors for more and better, from Megan Thee Stallion’s sparkly Nike Air Max sneakers to Zendaya’s and FKA twigs’ far-reaching partnerships with Swiss sportswear company On to Beyoncé’s Ivy Park x adidas collaboration. Those viral New Balance sneaker-loafers? Designed by footwear veteran Charlotte Lee.
And, as a result, we’re seeing girlified sneakers — and so many good girlified sneakers at that. Today’s women’s sneakers broadly feel more intentional than they once did. This isn’t the same “shrink it and pink it” design language of generations past. Because women are actually designing for women.
No one is doing hybrid Nikes quite like sacai’s Chitose Abe or stylish retro adidas sneakers like Wales Bonner. McLaughlin’s colorful HOKAs and Rihanna’s legendary PUMA Creepers remain in a league of their own. Some didn’t necessarily make their sneakers “girly” either. Rather, they helped create an environment for quality sneaker collaborations by women to thrive.
The lack of representation in women’s sneakers hasn’t been resolved overnight, and there is still much work to be done. However, with women making power moves in sneaker design, it normalizes the truth that sneakers aren’t just for the guys. The ladies’ remarkable efforts are a testament to that. Now, sportswear giants like Nike and adidas are working directly with girlhood-obsessed collaborators and producing in-line “girlified” shoes for everyone to enjoy.
Women cracked sneaker culture’s glass ceiling, allowing unconventional, history-making designs — even the new-school “girly” ideas — to push through. Sneaker fans snatch up these girlish collaborations with speed, and brand names have joined the fun with in-line girlcore releases. As a result, the girlification of sneakers has gotten so real.
