Quote of the day:
“Tomorrow belongs to those who can hear it coming.”
— David Bowie (1970s, around the birth of Ziggy Stardust)
Made me think:
🧠 Signalling Theory- Originally developed in economics by Michael Spence in the 1970s, this principle explains how people use visible cues to communicate hidden qualities. In footwear, exaggerated silhouettes or impractical materials signal confidence, status, or creative intent—long before comfort or utility enter the conversation. Margiela's esoteric details are a great example of this.
The Red Boots That Walked Ziggy Into History
David Bowie owned many remarkable shoes, but few are as culturally loaded as the knee-high red platform boots associated with Ziggy Stardust. Loud, theatrical, slightly confrontational—these weren’t just footwear, they were stage props with intent.
The design language traces back to Kansai Yamamoto, the Japanese designer who fused Kabuki theatre, traditional dress, and pop spectacle into radical performance clothing. Yamamoto’s work didn’t “style” Bowie so much as unlock him. These boots were part of that visual vocabulary: exaggerated, gender-ambiguous, and defiantly artificial.
The pair most people recognise—bright red, knee-length, high-shine boots with thick black platforms—were not Yamamoto originals, but practical reality stepped in. In 1972, Bowie commissioned affordable replicas from Stan “Dusty” Miller at Greenway & Sons in Penge, Kent, because he simply couldn’t afford Yamamoto’s originals at the time. Punk economics before punk had a name.
Construction-wise, they’re fascinating. Rounded Kabuki-inspired toes. A high platform sole with black-painted wooden cores, wrapped in vinyl or patent leather. Red metal zips running up the inner leg for fast costume changes. Stitching that runs straight down the shin, then curves around the upper—subtle pattern-cutting details doing quiet work under theatrical glare. Inside, cream leather linings, with fabric labels and utilitarian adhesive stickers that remind you these were tools, not trophies.
Later exhibition replicas were made by Gamba, a performance footwear specialist known for theatrical and stage boots—less about fashion, more about survival under lights, sweat, and movement. That lineage matters. These boots sit closer to equipment than luxury.
On stage, Bowie paired them with Freddie Burretti’s quilted satin suits or Yamamoto’s embroidered silks. Visually, they anchored Ziggy’s silhouette: the vertical line of the leg exaggerated, the body elongated, the human form nudged toward something alien. Watch Top of the Pops’ “Starman” and the boots feel like part of the performance language—grounding Bowie while also distancing him from it.
Today, the original boots live in the V&A’s Theatre and Performance Collection, their surfaces visibly worn, bloom and scuffs intact. That wear is important. It proves these weren’t precious. They were worked hard. Like good footwear should be.
Question to ponder:
For designers, the lesson isn’t about platforms or colour. It’s about intentional exaggeration—when footwear stops supporting the body and starts supporting the idea. If you had the change to design a shoe for an icon, knowing it would end up in the V&A what small details would you include to add your 5p?
All images courtesy of V&A
