Margiela’s Tabis – the camel hooves everyone loves

My first encounter with Margiela (the label, not the man) was with the famed Tabi boots. They were standing by the glass window, beckoning passerbys to take a good, long look at them. I did, and I scoffed. Back then I couldn’t for the life of me comprehend why anyone would want to wear camel hooves. Apparently I was not the only one who felt this way. While searching for images of Tabis, a number of people expressed the same views too. First, there was a feeling of repulse and bewilderment, then comprehension, and finally falling head over heels in love.

This is exactly how I feel about Margiela’s best works til today. Although the feeling of repulse is no longer present, more often than not, I will subconsciously raise a brow when seeing something new on the runway, or the archive. Someone once remarked that Margiela is all about visual puns, and that’s exactly what it is. Many of Margiela’s best works, with or without the man himself, begins from a classic item found in person’s sensible wardrobe, which will then be given a weird proportion, cut, or treatment. It makes the audience go, hey it’s not meant to be made this way, but it’s just bloody brilliant, that’s what!

Margiela’s Tabis are no different. They stemmed from the classic Japanese footwear of the same name. It took me several years before I could finally understand why people went apeshit over these strange, hoof-like shoes. Perhaps it’s the constant exposure bathing them in a positive light that influenced my opinion, or perhaps it’s Margiela’s magic working itself on me. Whatever it is, I know I’d like to collect the stranger versions of the Tabis, split toe or no split toe. I believe that if one should like to wear crazy camel shoes, one should go all the way and paint the town red in all its glittered glory.

Here’s to all you Tabi fans out there. Cheers!