Simon Porte Jacquemus makes shoes that photograph beautifully

Simon Porte Jacquemus makes shoes that photograph beautifully. That much is obvious from any given campaign shot: oversized buckles, exaggerated heels, colours that land somewhere between Provence and a fever dream. The question isn't whether they look good in a grid. It's whether they hold up when you wear them more than once.

The maison's footwear output has expanded considerably since those early Le Chiquito bags made everyone reconsider scale. Shoes followed a similar logic—statement pieces first, wearability as an afterthought. But in the past three years, Jacquemus has quietly refined its construction. The buckles still read from across a room, but the footbeds have improved. The leathers feel less like they'll crease into oblivion by week two. The soles, crucially, don't disintegrate on contact with pavement.

What follows is based on extended wear. Not a weekend, not a single event—months of regular rotation. Three models that manage to be both recognisable as Jacquemus and genuinely functional. The kind of shoes you reach for because they work, not because you're trying to make a point. Though they'll do that too, if you let them.

Les Mules Carino

The Carino mule is Jacquemus at its most restrained, which still means an oversized gold-toned buckle across a wide leather strap. The silhouette reads as a streamlined take on the Birkenstock Arizona, but executed in smooth calfskin rather than suede or oiled leather. It launched in 2021 and has remained in the collection with minor tweaks—mostly colourway rotations and the occasional textured leather option.

The construction is straightforward. A contoured cork footbed wrapped in leather, a single broad strap, a low stacked heel. The buckle is decorative; the strap adjusts via a hidden elastic gusset on the interior side. This is a practical concession that saves you from fumbling with hardware every time you slip them on.

After six months of wear—mostly around London, some travel—the footbed has moulded without collapsing. The leather strap has softened predictably at the bend points but hasn't stretched out. The cork underneath shows compression where your arch sits, which is what cork does. It hasn't crumbled or separated from the leather lining, which is the failure mode you'd expect from a fashion-forward mule that prioritises looks over longevity.

The heel stack is the weak point. It's wrapped in leather, not rubber, which means it wears down on pavement. After three months of regular use, the back edge started to show scuffing. A cobbler can re-heel them for £30, but it's worth noting that this isn't a once-and-done purchase. Budget for maintenance or accept that they'll look increasingly lived-in.

The Carino works because it doesn't try to reinvent the mule. It's a recognisable form with enough Jacquemus signature—that buckle, the proportions—to feel distinct. And it's comfortable in the way good sandals are comfortable: immediate, breathable, stable enough for a full day without requiring a break-in period.

Les Sandales Rond Carré

The Rond Carré sandal is more overtly architectural. It's built around a spherical heel—40mm, smooth and unadorned—that sits beneath a minimalist upper of thin leather straps. The name translates to 'round square', which doesn't make literal sense but gestures at the tension between the geometric heel and the softer lines of the straps.

This model debuted in SS22 and has been refined each season since. Early versions had a tendency for the heel to mark easily; the leather upper sometimes pulled at the stitching under stress. The current iteration, as of 2024, uses a denser leather for the straps and a coated finish on the heel that resists scuffing better.

Worn over eight months, including a summer in southern France and regular rotation in the city, the Rond Carré has proven more durable than expected. The spherical heel is the obvious concern—any unusual shape invites questions about balance and wear. In practice, it's stable. The contact point with the ground is small but sufficient. You don't wobble. The heel itself is solid resin, not hollow, which means it doesn't crack or dent.

The upper is where Jacquemus made the right call. The straps are thin but doubled at stress points—where they meet the sole, where they cross the instep. This isn't immediately visible, but you feel it when you pull them on. There's a slight give, not a sense that you're about to snap through a single layer of calfskin.

The footbed is flat leather over a thin layer of padding. It's not a sandal you'd choose for a ten-mile walk, but it's adequate for a long lunch and the aftermath. After months of wear, the leather has darkened slightly where your foot sits, which is normal. The stitching along the sole edge remains intact. No separation, no loose threads.

The Rond Carré is the most Jacquemus of the three—immediately identifiable, slightly impractical in concept, surprisingly wearable in execution. It's a sandal that works because the design restraint elsewhere balances the sculptural heel.

Le Raphia Espadrille

Jacquemus has made espadrilles since the beginning, but the Raphia version—introduced in 2020 and refined since—is the one that holds up. It's a slip-on espadrille with a woven raffia upper, a jute sole, and a low rubber wedge. The shape is classic. The execution is where it diverges from the £40 versions you'd find in a seaside shop.

The raffia is tightly woven and backed with canvas on the interior. This prevents the fibres from loosening or fraying at the edges, which is the usual failure point for natural-fibre shoes. The jute sole is stitched, not glued, to the upper—a traditional construction method that allows for repair. The rubber wedge underneath is thin but functional, adding about 20mm of height and enough grip to handle damp surfaces.

Worn across two summers, mostly in warm weather, the Raphia has softened without falling apart. The raffia has darkened slightly and compressed where it wraps the foot, but the structure remains. The jute sole shows wear—it's a natural material, it will—but hasn't detached or unravelled. The rubber wedge has scuffed but not worn through.

The fit is snug initially. Raffia doesn't stretch like leather, but it does relax. After a week, they feel less like you're forcing your foot into a rigid shell and more like they've adjusted to your shape. The interior canvas lining prevents blisters, which is a thoughtful detail in a shoe that's otherwise about texture and craft.

The Raphia works because it respects the espadrille form. Jacquemus hasn't tried to reinvent it or make it sculptural. It's a warm-weather shoe that does what it's meant to do, with enough material quality and construction integrity to last beyond a single season.

On Longevity

Jacquemus shoes are not heritage footwear. They're not Northampton welted brogues or Goodyear-constructed boots that you'll resole five times over 20 years. They're fashion shoes made with enough care to survive regular wear, which is a different standard.

What they require is basic maintenance. Leather uppers benefit from occasional conditioning—nothing elaborate, just a neutral cream to prevent drying and cracking. Jute and raffia should be kept dry when possible and brushed clean rather than wiped. Heels will need attention from a cobbler eventually, particularly on the Carino. Budget for that.

The broader point is that these shoes reward care without demanding reverence. Wear them, maintain them, accept that they'll show age. That's preferable to treating them as archive pieces that never leave the box. Jacquemus makes clothes and shoes to be worn, even when they look like they shouldn't be.