Now that the craze has hit a trough, I’m going to say it: I was never a Birk believer. On Cam and anyone Swedish (though Cam, you may as well be Swedish), stellar. Excellent. Go for it. There is something as deliciously ironic about my grandfather’s house slippers on a 6 foot blonde, as the essence Being A Dickhead – and yet, it’s not for me. Perhaps it’s the Asian-Australian mix that kills the Birk editorial magic just like soccer mums and Juicy Couture velour, or every designer monogram known to man.
But this, my friends, this is as close as I’m going to get to Birks without losing my head and dignity. Lisa Gorman has a way with such issues faced by Gen Y women.
I’ve always liked that about her.