I’ve been running a boutique menswear and footwear shop for almost two decades. In that time, I’ve seen trends come and go—chunky soles, minimalist leather, sock sneakers, you name it. I’ve stocked some of the hottest names in the game and passed on plenty that didn’t speak to my customers. But if there’s one brand that truly challenged my instincts—and then completely won me over—it’s Clarks.
I still remember the first time someone suggested I carry clarks originals nz. I raised an eyebrow. To me, Clarks was the brand your uncle wore with pleated khakis and orthopedic socks. Not exactly what I thought my style-savvy clientele were hunting for. I didn’t get the whole appeal of desert boots, and the Wallabees looked oddly chunky compared to the sleeker European silhouettes I favored at the time.
But then something happened—more of my regulars, particularly the ones with an eye for timeless, functional fashion—started asking for them. Not once or twice, but consistently. People wanted Clarks. They didn’t just want shoes that looked good—they wanted shoes that felt good, that had a story, that were built to last. That got my attention.
So I did what any skeptical buyer would do: I ordered a small test run. Just a few pairs of Desert Boots and Wallabees, tucked into a quiet corner of the shop, no big push. I figured they’d move slowly, if at all. But by the end of the first week? Gone. Clean out. Customers were trying them on, walking around the store, and you could just see that moment—the comfort hitting, the way the crepe sole cushioned each step, the way the suede molded to the foot. And the real kicker? They were styling them effortlessly with selvedge denim, raw linen trousers, even modern tailoring. Suddenly, those chunky Wallabees didn’t look outdated—they looked cool again.
That’s when I started digging into the heritage of the brand. What I learned only deepened my respect. These weren’t just mass-market shoes. Clarks Originals were rooted in craftsmanship, in smart, thoughtful design. The Desert Boot was inspired by a military silhouette from WWII, reinterpreted with clean lines and natural materials. The Wallabee, with its moccasin construction, had this laid-back yet architectural shape that felt completely unique. And the best part? They weren’t trying to be trendy. They were just themselves—and that kind of authenticity ages beautifully.
It wasn’t long before I expanded the range. Today, my shop carries a solid lineup from clarks shoes nz—not just the Originals, but also their more contemporary offerings. What I’ve come to appreciate is that Clarks somehow manages to bridge the gap between everyday function and understated cool. Whether it’s the clean leather sneakers for commuting professionals, or the smart-casual brogues for guys who want something versatile but polished, there’s a surprising amount of depth in their catalog.
And it’s not just men’s shoes. We’ve seen the same enthusiasm from women, especially with styles that offer comfort without compromising aesthetic. A pair of well-fitted Clarks loafers can carry you through a full day on your feet—and still look sharp enough for after-work drinks.
These days, I find myself personally reaching for my own pair of Wallabees more often than I’d ever expected. They’re my go-to for long market days, traveling, or just walking the city. There’s something reassuring about them—like they’ve been through things, just like you have. They scuff and soften, they wear in—not out.
That’s the thing about Clarks. They don’t scream for attention, but they earn it. Slowly, steadily, with every step.
So if you’re like I was—skeptical, maybe a bit dismissive—don’t write them off too quickly. Step into a pair. Feel the sole, the shape, the weight. You might be surprised by how much you start to trust them. That’s what happened to me, and it’s why I now proudly stock the full clarks nz range in-store. What started as doubt has grown into something rare in retail: long-term loyalty. And that, in this business, is worth its weight in gold.