2025 is the year we pledged allegiance to the tabi shoe

Before you roll your eyes at the dupe-fication of Margiela, it’s essential to note that the tabis were not invented by the French. Their provenance can be traced back to 15th-century Japan, where these were worn as socks, separating the big toe from the rest to maintain grip, balance and comfort. By the early 20th century, rubber soles strengthened the slip ons, creating the style we now call tabis. In fact, the so-called luxury design is still commonly worn by labourers in Japan.

Could it be that the internet’s obsession with Hobonichi planners, Studio Ghibli, matcha and all things East Asia summoned the return of the tabis? Well perhaps. But if you ask stylist and designer Jayati Monga, an ardent wearer of the shoes, it’s more fashion school. “Wearing tabis feels like being a small part of the universe Margiela built, even if mine is a dupe,” says the 25-year-old from Bengaluru. “It’s definitely a polarising silhouette but that’s part of the charm.”

In truth, the central conflict of the tabi—the ‘will they, won’t they’—is a major draw for many wearers. At a time when everything from your inside-joke laptop sticker to the DIY crochet keychain on your bag is a way to script your personality, wearing tabis signals which niche you bend the knee for. It is a strange IYKYK declaration, attracting those who subscribe to similar experimentation while weeding out others who are scared to err on the wrong side of fashion. In fact Monga influenced her flatmate to join the tabi tribe. “They felt super out there to me at first but I love how whimsical tabis can look,” says Udisha Madan, 27, who has just ordered her split-toe shoes.

Most people will agree, the hoof lookalikes do not evoke love at first sight. Just like other great works of art—Lena Dunham’s Girls, Addison Rae—tabis are a slow burn. “When I first saw them on TikTok, my immediate thought was, ‘Ew, I hate that.’ The more I saw them, the cuter they got in my eyes,” explains Ankolekar. Still what finally sealed the deal for the 28-year-old was the tabis’ gentle allure of grounding. “I saw a video about how back in Japan, the thin sole allowed the wearer to stay as close to the ground as possible,” she adds. When so many woo-woo wellness enthusiasts are going entirely barefoot for a taste of analogue, it fits that a shoe that promises to root people to the earth (while shielding them from the grime of the streets) has our vote.