The perfect travel shoe is a unicorn among shoes. What might work for, say, a European city break isn’t necessarily going to feel comfortable getting off the plane in the Caribbean, not to mention you’ll probably need something that slips easily into the line airport security. Over the years, I’ve tried everything from sneakers to Birkenstocks to Chelsea boots, all of which looked great at the airport but didn’t necessarily translate into my outfits on the other side of the flight. I eventually found my perfect match, however, before a trip that combined both Mexico City and Tulum (destinations with drastically different vibes), and I found myself wearing them at every stage of the vacation, whether it was be it stumbling around Frida Khalo’s Casa Azul, riding a bike through a Mayan ruin, or sitting in a beach bar until 2 a.m. Since then, they have been an integral part of my to-go list.
Handmade in Turkey, the Sabah slippers are inspired by a traditional Turkish shoe that has mostly fallen into disuse in recent years, but is given a quintessentially New York twist thanks to the brand’s founder, Mickey Ashmore. The origin story is simple: Ashmore fell so in love with the style of shoes after receiving a pair while living in Istanbul in 2010, that when they were too thin from wear, he found a man named Orhan, one of the last traditional shoemakers in Gaziantep, a region close to Syria’s border with Turkey, to have them repaired. The pair exchanged numbers and from there a collaboration was born.
Sabah shoes are available in a range of colors including Phoenician Purple.
Over a decade later, you can now buy Sabah slippers in a whole host of different colors, all made from soft leather. My pair are leopard print, but you can find them in jewel shades of Palma Green, Felli Red and Phoenician Purple. There are also suede versions, including a pink rose and a desert hue called Teton Yellow; plus a glamorous metallic gold that would dress up any outfit in place of heels. There’s also an additional Baba style, which looks more like a mule and comes in even more colors and patterns, some with cozy sheepskin lining. But regardless of color or style, each shoe comes to life the same way: hand-sewn by one of the 10 shoemakers that make up the Sabah workshop in Gaziantep. Look closely at a pair and you’ll notice the initials of the person who made them delicately written with a ballpoint pen inside.
As much as I coveted new colors, it was hard to justify buying another pair given their incredible durability. After six years of ownership, my pair are completely intact except for the color, which is fading slightly in a way that, on the contrary, only makes them look better. My Sabah shoes survived torrential rains on that aforementioned trip to Mexico, pounded the pavement in Paris, went dancing in Medellín, got tossed in the sand in Montauk and, of course, hiked the impossibly steep hills of ‘Istanbul, just as they were meant to be. The more I wear them the better they fit, molding to my feet like a glove, almost as if they were designed just for me.
