Would You Pay $750 For Keds?

Or $895 for Vans? Luxury fashion makes the case for both.

^{Image: Ellie Cooper at Unsplash}

I’ve lost count of the double-takes I’ve done over designer shoe arrivals lately. Every one of those wonderfully wearable, heelless designs are what a multitasking-mom’s fashion dreams are made of. But, more and more frequently, there’s something curiously familiar about them.

For instance, did anyone else wear a version of the Celine Alan in sixth grade? Perhaps you own a cheaper iteration of Miu Miu’s Van-like “Chino” sneaker already. Or maybe, you’re an outdoorsy type with a trek sandal not dissimilar to Phoebe Philo’s Pace Runner buried in a bag upstate with the rest of your summer hiking kit.

The whole suspiciously repetitive scenario begs the slightly obvious question: when a $900 shoe and a $50 shoe look nearly identical (and the cheaper version existed first), what exactly is going on—is it a collaboration, an upgrade…a dupe? And which one is worth the price tag?

^{Flashback to those Celine Pony Hair Slip Ons from 2014}

True teamwork requires near-equal effort on both sides, otherwise it's the grownup scenario of the hardworking nerd pairing up with the lazy cool kid on a science project and being told that the association alone counts as their valuable contribution. But this situation isn't as cut and dry.

Today, luxury houses are improving the originals with better materials, more streamlined proportions, and some unique detail that amps up the desirability factor and makes you look twice.

That was the case when I bought, loved, and wore to death, the Phoebe Philo-era Celine pony hair Skate Shoe from the Pre-Fall 2014 collection (see above). At the time, it was basically a souped up Van, but the tactile details made it far more interesting than anything the original skate brand had to offer. So, if you wanted the look, you had to pay for it. And I, for one, wanted the look. (The construction was also far sturdier—near indestructible, I’d say—than its predecessor).

While the regular-sneaker-to-runway-shoe pipeline isn’t new, the rate at which these upgrades are appearing (Celine’s reboot of Reebok’s Freestyle Sneaker and Willy Chavarria’s resurrection of the Adidas Stan Smith both just debuted at Spring 2027 Paris Men’s Fashion Week) feels dizzying. You’ve barely scrolled past one, before another pops up in your feed.

But, honestly, I don’t hate it. With summer camps currently monopolizing resources, Phoebe Philo’s Pace Runner isn’t moving out of my cart anytime soon, but Teva’s Aventrail, certainly could. And, if Philo hadn’t given them a makeover, would I even think to consider Teva’s this summer? Seems that everyone wins here.

But why do designers engage in this borrowing act at all? It’s certainly true that a Vans-lookalike or Keds-cousin is immediately recognizable in the millisecond a social media feed dedicates to it. And during that slice of time, it can read as both of-the-moment, slightly subversive, and, crucially, immediately wearable.

To that point, online fashion critic Fashion Roadman has said, “it’s so hard to get people to buy things they aren’t familiar with, and in the luxury market that we’re in right now, where brands want to grow to the moon and not take more risks, [revamped sneakers are] what we’re going to continue getting.” He credits Polish psychologist, Robert Zajonc, as the pioneer of this thinking.

So, with all this in mind—because whatever we end up buying we should do it informed—let’s look at what’s out there, and figure out what’s worth it.

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Case 1: Celine Alan vs. Keds Champion Original

^{Celine Alan Sneaker: $750. Keds Champion Original: $45–65}

Keds’ Champion has spent over a hundred years being marketed as a democratic wardrobe essential. Having been worn by Marilyn Monroe in Clash by Night (1952), Audrey Hepburn in Two for the Road (1967) and Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing (1987), it’s fair to say they’re fairly iconic. Celine’s Alan takes that round-toe, lace-up sensibility and adds a Triomphe patch, calfskin suede paneling and a flash of retro color inspiration around the heel for today’s luxury dressers. The Row, incidentally, also has an ultra-clean version. And Miu Miu has one with a modern-retro touch. Whether their price tags are worth it, as was the case with my old Celine’s, comes down to whether those little details make all the difference.

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Case 2: Miu Miu Chino vs. Vans Authentic

^{Miu Miu Chino Sneaker: $895. Vans Authentic: $55–65}

At first glance, these two are twinning a little too closely. But there is a subtle design change that for some, might just make it all worth it. The rim of Miu Miu’s shoe is decidedly lower than the original, and the fabric pulls and ripples in an alluringly vintage way. They’re from Miu Miu’s Upcycled collection, so imperfection is part of the game plan, and in the age of AI, that dwindling concept might just be a romantic enough idea to shell out for.

The Vans’ Authentic, by comparison, looks almost cartoonishly perfect. The base is clunky and it takes some time to wear in. It’s been the skate community’s go-to since 1966, and is intentionally affordable and replaceable so you don’t have to worry your dodgy kickflip will cost you in more ways than one. Miu Miu’s designs, I should mention, also include their now-signature, double-lace detail, which in turn, Vans have copied elsewhere. Highsnobiety offers this:

‘‘That's right, these sneaker similarities aren't a one-sided affair. Vans has reheated Miu Miu's nachos with its double-laced Super Lowpro sneaker too, and now Miu Miu seems to be returning the favor.”

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Case 3: Phoebe Philo’s Pace Runner vs. Teva Aventrail & Fit Flop Neo-D-Hyker

^{Phoebe Philo Pace Runner: $1,016–$1,440. Fit Flop Sandals $100 & Teva Aventrail: $145}

Teva’s Aventrail is a functional trail-running sandal, with a nylon stability plate and supercritical foam cushioning, so adventurers can safely navigate craggy rocks and gushing rivers. Phoebe Philo’s Pace Runner takes its buckled-strap and chunky-sole, and elevates it for the New York City sidewalk. Which, arguably, can be dicier terrain than a scenic trail in the Adirondacks. I’ve seen them worn on buses and at camp drop off, likely for that very reason. You can buy Khaite’s Murray sandal on sale, if you happen to be a size 8, here. Or a similar take by Mephisto, here. And honestly, these ones by Fit Flop are a surprisingly good alternative. But my personal preference are the Asics Gel-Filimy sneakers.* A concoction of Nike’s Air Rift (without the Tabi), a sneaker, a ballerina, and a trail sandal—but the toe-covered summer version, if that’s important to you, like it is to me.

*I bought black, but they’re also available in beige/metal and, perhaps the best color of them all, burgundy/metal.

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Case 4: Dior B23 High-Top vs. Converse Chuck Taylor All Star

^{Dior B23 High-Top: $1,100. Converse Chuck Taylor All Star: $60}

If Jonathan Anderson gives a silhouette his seal of approval, it’s worth taking note. Same goes for British Vogue, who recently declared this sneaker was returning to our wardrobes this year, so to my thinking, it’s a done deal. The Chuck Taylor has been going strong since 1917, and while it doesn’t technically need a reinvention, a seemingly endless stream of designers are drawn to recreating it in their image (among them, Margiela, Comme des Garçons, Isabel Marant). The Chuck Taylor's enduring appeal comes down to its timeless look and, at $60 a pair, it’s accessibility. So whether you choose to invest in the Dior version (a current and future collectors item) or the original, you can’t go wrong.

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The circles are getting smaller

Although we've firmly established these aren't dupes and often improve on the original (a fake, rip-off, or counterfeit is done without permission and benefits only one party—the quality is usually questionable, too), I’m still somewhat baffled as to why the nostalgia behind these upgrades is driving desire for something that never went away. Trends usually run in 20-year cycles, after all, but none of these styles have been discontinued or even momentarily disappeared. And if absence makes the heart grow fonder, and the object of our affection never leaves, what is it, exactly, we’re all longing for? Whatever we choose to call it, we're all buying into it. Everything really is everywhere, all at once.

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You can shop all the footwear options on my Shopmy, here.

Tell me your thoughts in the comments.