Annalise’s Birkenstocks: From Walker to Talker
Annalise with her worn-out Birkenstocks. Image: Alex Sherlock, 2026
What is the origin of your shoes?
My everyday brown Birkenstocks, bought in late 2019 in a fit of indulgence to celebrate starting a new job.
What have they done?
These were my work shoes. I wore them to work in a bike workshop, a number of different schools, and finally as gardening shoes for my most recent job as a school gardening teacher. But they were so comfortable, I actually wore them just about everywhere else as well.
What do they signify?
I am a practical middle-aged woman, and these are my practical middle-aged woman's shoes. They are brown lace-ups, like the shoes I used to have to wear to school, and maybe that is why I associated them with not just physical comfort but also social comfort. The shoes were not cool or pretty, but they were very me. I could just forget they were on my feet.
What did/do you love about them?
Until the very end, when the rubber at the balls of the feet became so thin they were like rubber socks, and a hole developed in the middle of one of the replacement inner soles (a blister hazard), these shoes were simply incredibly comfortable, and able to be worn almost anywhere, with any of my outfits. They were the perfect shape for my foot. Strangely, I seem to have taken quite a few photos of my feet while wearing them over the years.
Is there anything you dislike about them?
The fact that they do not have eternal life! And Birkenstock seem to have discontinued this style as well, which is a huge disappointment.
What do you think would happen to them if you didn't give them a second life? How would you feel about this fate?
Probably like all the other shoes in my life, I would have eventually put them in landfill. Maybe the sneaker recycling at Rebel Sport? They aren't really sneakers, though. I don't think I would have considered any kind of second life for them had I not encountered Alex and Pennie at This Is Not A Shoe. I would have wrenched them out of my house and life in a sad plastic bag, after having (of course) thanked them for their service.
Why do you want to deconstruct and/or transform these shoes?
I love them, and they have reached the end of their useful life as shoes. Not just for me, but for anyone.
What did you make from your shoes, and were there any materials left over?
I made a hand puppet, 'Birk' from most of the parts of both shoes. Most of one outer sole and both inner soles remain, as well as the fragile and filthy lining that sat between the inner and outer soles.
How do you feel about the transformation? Do the things you have made feel like a continuation of the shoe's story, a rupture, rebirth, or something else entirely?
Birk is a joy because he reminds me that I can be creative. I have made these kinds of things in the past with unlikely and limited materials and always enjoy it, but rarely give myself permission to do this for fun (I was an arty kid who was encouraged into more academic pursuits). Building from items that would otherwise go to waste is incredibly satisfying — much more so than building with new materials. It was very therapeutic.
I also appreciated the team effort that went into creating Birk. I was going to build a woven wastepaper basket with my shoes, but Alex was dubious, saying, I don't think your shoes want to be a bin!' I had to think again! Birk could go on to have a brilliant career beyond the grave as a communicator for the sustainable fashion movement. Who knows?!
Pennie and Birk. Image: Alex Sherlock, 2026
Has the process changed how you think about your other shoes, or how you acquire, care for, or dispose of shoes more generally?
Yes! I picked up a lonely, long-abandoned baby Croc from the side of the road today. Birk is about to get a baby sibling! The workshop has led to a profound change in the way I view not just my old shoes but also every piece of rubbish I come across. It has inspired me to both consume less and to make more art. Art that engages the community, encourages participation, innovation, reflection and hope, is absolutely necessary in these times. I loved participating in This Is Not A Shoe because it encompasses all these ideals.
What advice would you give someone considering doing this with a pair of their own shoes?
What have you got to lose? Absolutely nothing! What a fun challenge, to see if you can make something out of rubbish!