When browsing the web for more hidden books on footwear, I came across a rather interesting magazine on Onitsuka Tiger. Among the photos in the advertised post was an image that detailed an assortment of shoes all of which had a red piece of string tied to them. Fascinated by this photo, I would soon learn that this was an exhibition created by a Japanese artist called Chiharu Shiota. In her piece called Dialogue from DNA, Chiharu viewed footwear from a perspective I’d never considered before, finding how “objects can contain the air of an absence, about how nothingness often speaks volubly about objects and people.”

“One of Shiota’s favorite works is an assortment of used shoes that she collected from various people in her neighborhood in Osaka. “I asked them to write out little histories attached to the shoes, and the result was extraordinary,” she says. “I got messages about how a woman wore a particular pair of black pumps on the day of her husband’s funeral, about a girl who had worn a pair of sneakers on the occasion of a break-up with her boyfriend. Some of the shoes were battered and had holes, others were crushed and looked like cabbages; others were practically new but a little sinister-looking.” Shiota displayed the shoes in such a way that they looked as though their owners had just left them there temporarily, and would soon be back to wear them and stride out the door.” – Page 50 Onitsuka Tiger 60th Made Of Japan. (Words by Kaori Shoji. Photo by Sunhi Mang.)

I recognised this view myself, having photographed abandoned footwear since my trip to Peru back in 2022. I think what sparked it was when I spotted a sandal being ingeniuously used as a door hinge. At that point, the object had transformed into something I had never realised it could be. During the time it made me chuckle, but since I have taken it to be a revelatory moment.

Since moving to the Big Smoke I have found myself taking photos of any discarded shoes that I have come by, all in the hope that I can one day include them in my book on shoes. Giving people a multi-layered approach to the vast world that is the objects that go on our feet.

To a certain degree, shoes are the only item of clothing left that truly reveals who we are, at least when it comes to the Western world and the generation born in the 90s upwards. Similar to what Yohji Yamamoto was saying in Wim Wenders’ documentary about him, the days when you could tell someone’s profession by what they wore are long gone. A shoe says a lot about someone, even more so when they are not being worn by said person. Whether someone is shy or confident, how they walk, their beliefs, their ability to dance the night away, their priorities and their insecurities are all tied onto that person’s foot at the start of the day.

However tempted I have been to pick up these discarded trainers or sandals, I realise that it would not be practical in the slightest, especially because I already own more shoes than the average person. So having considered the moral and even hygienic aspects of taking all these objects, regardless of if I end up hosting what could be a similar exhibition to Shiota’s Dialogue from DNA, I have decided it best to stick to a digital perspective (…at least for now).

Where Shiota has asked the person who donated their shoes to add a storied note, I will have to stick to a combination of simple facts as well as a sprinkling of artistic license. Where I found the shoe, the type of day it was, what mood I was in, what brand and year the shoe is from are all questions which first spring to mind.

If you do know of any picturesque pieces of footwear that have been thrown away on the streets of London, then by all means drop me a message or better yet, send in a shot that you took yourself!