Let the Dogs Out
- Flora Ivins
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Time to smother your toes in plastic.
A well-shod (or barely-there) foot is all the rage. Just a few months ago, the slapping of thick thong flip-flops echoed the streets of every major fashion capital. This was partly thanks to the Brazilian brand Havaianas (pioneers of rubber thongs since 1966), who partnered with Gigi Hadid in a delightful move to boost their MIV. Despite the urge to wrap up in fur coats and cozy into hibernation, the phalangeal freak show is far from over. In Spring/Summer 2026, we are going utterly nude.
Unlike the hoist of a flip-flop strap, a PVC heel clings to the metatarsals and emboldens the piggies. An open-toed plastic monster can be wriggled into with bunions galore — forget the sartorial panic of an ill-fitting kitten heel. But this raunchy shoe requires taming. There is the oppressive clack in the Underground to be reckoned with (HALOSCOPE recommends you lacquer up to hide the below-the-nail city grime). Sliding around in foggy, sweat-soaked insoles tempts a kind of voyeuristic humiliation. Once on foot, all go-getting gumption must be channeled into slicked-back confidence. Smothering your trotters in vinylite would be disgusting if only it weren’t so good.
Scantily clad feet have teased the conventions of popular culture for almost a century. Following its utility in World War II, PVC soon covered women’s feet worldwide. In a 1955 style dispatch for the New York Times, editor Dorothy Hawkins termed the rise of “a barefoot chic,” picking the nastiest pair of peekaboo vinylite vamps for the cut. During this time, vanguard shoe designer Beth Levine propelled the Herbert Levine repertoire into the nudes. Her most provocative creation was the No Shoe in the late ‘50s, an elongated, heeled sole fixed by two strips of adhesive that welded to the feet. Sex workers and dancers of the ‘90s spotlighted Pleaser heels — strappy, transparent platforms — for their utilitarianism, which were later commercialised by lingerie giant Frederick’s of Hollywood. For a 1995 Vanity Fair double spread, Nicole Kidman was shot by Herb Ritts, curls piled high and smouldering in a pink bubble bath — lest we forget the Pleasers draped over the side.
Resurgences of see-through shoes have been peppered across the media sphere for the last 20 years. A slew of A-listers like Ashley Olsen, Hailey Bieber, and Kim K have sported pairs, including those from cult brands Amina Muaddi and Gianvito Rossi. Former Senior Fashion Writer at Vogue and NEVERWORNS Newscaster Liana Satenstein reported on the dangers afflicting plastic-covered feet in 2018, namely the repulsive “petri dish pedicure.” Despite the threat of infectious disease, this genre of shoe is an enduring charmer. Its perennial sheen made a timely and indefinite return in a slam-dunk September showing.
The harbinger of perverse fashion, Simone Rocha, showed the gratifying vulgarity that comes with subverting a traditional shoe in her SS26 collection. Brogues were sliced with lapping plastic tongues, evoking that naughty, childish glint Rocha seeks to capture with her gaudy drop-waists and crinkled organza. Similarly, TOGA Archives warped the classic ballet flat, often worn by a clutch of The Row acolytes, with phalangeal windows across the vamp. Dilara Findikoglu’s strappy heels nipped at the Achilles of medieval goddesses. From afar, cubes of resin became a whisper of a heel.
Although the Chloé SS26 collection was rooted in springtime pragmatism (think bunching saccharine floral dresses and taffeta coats), it was still anchored in fantasy by the gelatinous peeptoes and boat-neck vamps. Maison Margiela, too, took the PVC trend a step further. In addition to the knee-high split-sole boots fitted with lucite blocks to contort the feet into a glassy hoof, a process of “plasticisation” was used to vacuum-pack garments. Jewellery lay sequestered in bodices and silk jackets shellacked into makeshift raincoats. Loewe’s kooky design lexicon saw translucent ankle boots attached to the tiniest nub of a heel and lined with colorful knit socks. The most daring iteration was courtesy of Valentino. Stilettos were cut in a salacious “V,” exposing a glimpse of toe cleavage restrained by a sliver of PVC. The heels were paired with knee-length satin skirts, a cinched purple embossed coat, and a ruched fuchsia mini-dress.
The industry-wide valley between ludicrous footwear styles (Tabis, Vibram FiveFingers, and flip-flops, to name a few) has spliced, animalised, and exposed the feet. Only the PVC heel offers a cheeky, barely-there shield. The plastic wicks away at naivety and douses the wearer in non-conformity. Better yet if you dig the hunt for a sleazy pair of second-handers.
The foray of topless shoes on the September runways is sure to beckon the sartorially inclined. After all, the fashion moguls have decided: maybe it is time to let the dogs out. 🌀
Flora Ivins is a writer and armchair critic based in London. You can often find her plumbing the depths of eBay or online @flosivie.