I Accidentally Stole My Date’s Birkenstocks

And a throwback to the launch of Urban Decay's 24/7 eyeliners

The scene of the Birkenstock swap scene in Bangkok.

“I accidentally have your shoes,” I texted Antonello.

Moments earlier, I’d kissed him goodbye, slipped on my Birks in the dark by the bed, and scurried out of the hotel room at 7 a.m. to go meet my friends for a ride out to Koh Samet for the weekend. It was dark when I left, so I didn’t notice until we were well outside of Bangkok that these were, in fact, not my shoes.

We’d both separately purchased new Birkenstocks in Bangkok. His were the OG Arizona in dark brown; mine were the new Arizona all-black version. It wasn’t until we were on the road that I realized something felt… off. I looked down and laughed. They were oversized and a color I’d never, ever bow down to: doo-doo brown.

Earlier in the week, we’d gone on a cheesy date to a rooftop bar and chuckled as we read the dress code: “slippers, flip flops, and Birkenstocks are not permitted.” We entered anyway, then nearly rolled out of our chairs when we saw some of the outfits and shoes walking around the joint like it was a sleazy Vegas Casino. While Birkenstocks might not scream sexy, they’re certainly reliable—and, that night, they were by far the chicest shoe choice in the bar.

Lately, I’ve been asked by a lot of women how I pack shoes for a never-ending journey using just a carry-on. It’s tough! When I lived in New York City, I had endless pairs of shoes—heels soaring so high I’d consistently overtower my dates. But never Birkenstocks. I’d long admired Eva Chen’s love and dedication to the crunchy sandal, the way she made it look stylish as can be alongside some stellar Alexander Wang ensemble. She was and still is always good at the balancing act: Clé de Peau and Revlon; Chanel and Birkenstock. Her approachability was a gift, especially in her top-tiered magazine role.

I worked with Eva Chen—gulp—over 15 years ago, during the heyday of my PR career. Eva was Editor-in-Chief of Lucky (RIP, best magazine ever) and then beauty director at Teen Vogue. I worked on the coolest (still cool) beauty brands like Urban Decay, Shu Uemura Art of Hair, got2B, Tresemmé (circa Project Runway days), Make Up For Ever, Sally Hershberger, Weleda, and more. My goal was always to stay up-to-date on her musings and cross my fingers that my product launches were cool enough to make it to her desk.

Not my Birkenstocks.

Urban Decay and I go way back. For Christmas during this era, I’d fly back like Santa with a few Naked palettes and holiday kits for my nieces. My makeup routine was a chore I looked forward to—my vanity was like walking into Sephora, if not better. Backbar-sized Kérastase shampoo in the shower (event endings were crucial times to be in the right place at the right time), Tocca candles burning like the supply would never end, and pretty much any choice of lipstick, eyeliner, and eyeshadow a gal could dream of.

Part of the job was testing products to write press releases that would resonate with my fellow beauty editors: Eva Chen, April Franzino, Heather Muir, Cheryl Kramer Kaye, Celia Ellenberg, Dori Katz, Andrea Arterbery, Elaine Welteroth, and Ellen Miller—to name just a few. I could still list off in memory where each of those badasses worked, their titles, and their favorite beauty dos and don’ts. It was the best era in beauty, and where the art of a relationship was not a dying art. Instagram did not exist, and a good eyeliner was a good eyeliner.

Fancy dinners at STK to talk about the newest foundation? You betcha. It was my strongest skill, if I’m being honest. When Urban Decay launched their 24/7 eyeliners, it was my mission to make the best press release ever. For research, I thought back to a recent walk of shame—mascara smeared halfway down my face, clowning around, and probably resembling the Joker. But the high of prancing around in last night’s dress after spending the night in a wealthy banker’s swanky loft with a skyline view was too good to notice. Until that is, I got to my box-like apartment and looked in the mirror.

Fuck. The deli guy saw me like this when I ordered my bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll with a giant iced coffee (that was essentially cream in a giant Styrofoam cup)

Featured in the Wall Street Journal, written by Hannah Selinger (can’t share it here as I can’t access the site in Italy).

Anyway, how to market this eyeliner? Simple: sex. Sex always sells. I tested the 24/7 eyeliner on a night out and a walk-of-shame morning around New York. It didn’t run. I called the press release something like “Lasting All Night Long… 24/7.” I wish I could find it. It worked. Every editor was chattering about those eyeliners. And I believe, to this day, they’re still a bestseller. Still the only eyeliner I use—albeit way less frequently these days. I’m still good friends with Tammy Bartel, director of public relations, and perhaps the longest-standing employee of the company (maybe she can find this release!).

Featured in Travel + Leisure

I don’t know how I got on this sideways tangent about eyeliner, but anyway, Eva Chen has always admired Birkenstocks. And over the past few years of becoming semi-monogamous with the sandal, I can now fully understand why: they just work. Birkenstocks are one of my three tried-and-true travel shoes, year-round. They go with anything and everything—including the morning walk-down-to-breakfast outfit when you’re not quite ready to be done up for the day. Or a formal dress to The White Lotus premiere in Bangkok (no one will see your shoes anyway, but when they do, they’ll wish they wore Birks by hour three of standing around). In the summer, I even like to throw in the waterproof EVA pair. I only do Birks in black or white—my limited wardrobe works with those neutral colors.

Most recently, I stayed at the Venice Venice Hotel, and their shop had a window display filled with Birkenstocks. Owners Alessandro Gallo and Francesca Rinaldo, the duo behind Golden Goose, opened the hotel, and I’ll never get kicked out of here for my love for Birks.

Life after beauty PR was a whiplash. No more $800 haircuts, no more showers that doubled as Sephora stockrooms. I’m deep into my “every pump and squirt counts” era. But honestly? My beauty routine—and my shoe game—are blissfully on autopilot. If there’s one thing all those years of glitz and glam taught me, it’s this: I know exactly what I like..

In case you were wondering, I reunited with my shoes and the Sardinian man after my weekend in someone else’s shoes in Koh Samet.

xxJenn