A conversation with Helen Kirkum

In a large clothing recycling centre in London a mountain of shoes awaits their fate. These shoes — donated to the charity Traid, which sorts donated clothes for resale in their shops across the UK to support charitable projects — have lost their pair. And all alone, a single shoe is almost impossible to resell. 

When the designer Helen Kirkum first saw the pile of lonely shoes she decided she was going to use them as her raw material. While studying a masters at the Royal College of Art her practice became centred on making handmade sneakers from those that had been left behind. “The project all started with this idea developing stories around these lost sneakers,” she told me. 

Called ‘Our Brave World’ her graduate collection got wide-spread press attention with features in both Highsnobiety, the streetwear blog, and 1 Granary, a platform that spotlights emerging fashion design talent. Helen has been heralded as a pioneer in the hacked and deconstructed sneaker aesthetic. After graduating in 2016 she worked at Adidas Women’s Originals and in 2019 she set up her own studio making bespoke sneakers by hand, using either the Traid singles or preworn, vintage or deadstock pairs the commissioning client sent. 

In past newsletters I have learned about degrowth, and in last week's issue I spoke to Kate Fletcher about her Earth Logic action plan. Helen is putting into practice these ideas, she fosters and nurtures a community, not only in the people who order sneakers but through the workshops she runs, nearly everything is locally sourced (some clients are international) and it is just her making the sneakers. I asked Helen more about how it works and what inspired her to work in this way in a niche market that is driven by newness.

Helen Kirkum by James Law

Shonagh Marshall: What was your relationship to clothes and fashion growing up?

Helen Kirkum: I've got an older sister, so I've grown up with hand-me-downs. I think without realizing it, that influenced my mindset on newness from an early age. My mum also used to have a clothing brand called Playtime, and she used to go to craft fairs and sell her clothes. My sister and I used to model and go to the craft fairs, and my mum was always making our clothes. So I used to have a mismatch of random clothes. I think that was the start, from quite an early age, of building an identity with found objects, things that just ended up in my presence and I didn't necessarily choose. 

Shonagh: You went on to study footwear design at Northampton and afterward did an MA at the Royal College of Art. What were those experiences like? 

Helen: I did a BA in footwear and accessory design at the University of Northampton. Northampton has many traditional footwear factories, so that was nice because I learned the traditional craft of shoemaking. I worked within the Cheaney factory for my final project, and after that, I understood the old-fashioned craft of British shoemaking. 

Then when I went to the Royal College of Art, where I almost took up the idea of unmaking — seeing what I already knew and exploring how I could adapt that. I wanted to work with that knowledge to create different construction techniques and different ways of making. 

Shonagh: Did your want to explore new systems and processes come from your education at the RCA? Were you being encouraged to think differently and challenge overproduction, newness, and consumption? 

Helen: I don't think it was something I learned from education. In fact, I faced some resistance to the way that I was creating products. My tutors wanted me to use old trainers as inspiration to make something new. I had so many intense conversations about how the old shoes are the point — that is the work, using old shoes.

Initially, I wanted to make sneakers because I didn't know how to make them. I'd come from this traditional background, where I made brogues and dress shoes, and I was really interested in sneakers. So I started asking people for their old sneakers to cut up to see how they were made, and I found that no one would give me them. I realized that people had this connection to sneakers that they didn't have to other items of clothes. At that point, I started going down this rabbit hole of our human relationship with products, specifically sneakers. That was what got me interested in them. 

It was 2014 when I started my MA, and at that time, sneakers appeared so white, shiny, and perfectly formed on the shelf. They were utterly devoid of the process of making, and I was interested in seeing if I could create a sneaker product, that was so obviously handmade out of secondhand materials, that could still generate some of the same kind of attention. My work is always driven by stories and by the human agency within products, and it's not driven by hype — it's anti-newness. 

Shonagh: That is so interesting because you were experimenting with shifting the aesthetic codes of what was desirable within this very niche market. You were seeing if the tactility of handmade, with the traces of dirt from use, could become fashionable. For your MA final project, you made a body of work called 'Our Public Youth' exploring the totemic nature of sneakers. How was it received? 

Helen: It was well received. It's so interesting when I think back on it now; I was never creating these pieces to have this hype appeal to them. It was driven by an anthropology investigation, looking at our relationship with products and the marks and memories embedded in the materials we use. 

When nobody would give me their old sneakers, I went to the warehouse of a recycling center in London called Traid. That's when I discovered the mass of shoes they had that they couldn't reuse. They have odd sneaker bins — not just sneakers, they have every flippin' shoe you could ever imagine in the bins — they come from when people donate their shoes, and they don't tie the laces together or don't secure them as a pair, and they get separated in the sorting process. When I saw those odd bins, I was like, I'm going to use that because that is the stuff that no one else can use — I'm going to utilize that as my raw materials. The project all started with this idea developing stories around these lost sneakers.

I was also looking at commerce and how we're driven by it and how overconsumption and newness, especially in sneaker culture, drives the industry. That's where it all started, and that's still what I'm exploring now.

A made to order sneaker

Shonagh: Now you have a studio where one of the services you offer is making bespoke sneakers for people. I am interested in degrowth, and yours is an excellent example of a fashion practice that adheres to these ideas. What is the process like? Who are the people that commission you to make them sneakers?  

Helen: It happened organically. When I started doing this work, so many people asked, How do I get a pair? And I didn't have an answer. It's only in the last year or so that I've built this made-to-order service where people can work with me and create their unique sneakers. 

I offer two different options: we have the legacy pair, which is when people send me their old shoes, and I make them a new shoe based on their old shoes, or there's voyage, which is when I use shoes from Traid. 

When people send me their old shoes, I ask them to send between two and six pairs. I deconstruct them, break them all down into their component pieces and look at, within those shoes, if any specific pieces have interesting marks. Quite a lot of my clients are artists, so they sometimes have paint splatters on, or they have doodles, writing, or illustrations on them. Those panel pieces are always amazing because you can take, utilize and showcase them in a new product. 

Shonagh: How long does it take to do one pair of shoes?

Helen: In terms of my time, I allocate myself around two weeks to physically make the product. It's about a week and a half, but I can't do anything else apart from made-to-order at that time. I used to say it would take three months to get your order, but now I have an ongoing waiting list. I allocate people a month based on when they send their requests. So say, if somebody requested now, you would get your shoes in September. I can only do one per month, because of how long it takes and I have a lot of other projects. 

Shonagh: You do take on other projects, such as working with brands. Could you sustain your business doing only made-to-order products?

Helen: At the moment, not really. Legacy pairs are £1,600, I don't make much profit because of the time and dedication it takes for each pair, but for me made-to-order is the lifeblood of the business; it's the thing that's important to my practice as an artist. I use other projects, like collaborations and consultancy, to sustain the made-to-order. Right now, I do absolutely everything from deconstructing your shoe to sticking the label on your box.

Shonagh: It is really interesting that you have these two different options: you can bring your own shoes or use waste sneakers. Is the conversation with the client different when working on a legacy pair from making a voyage pair? 

Helen: Yeah. People that send their sneakers can be a lot more precious about the end result. They're sometimes sending their most precious pairs of shoes, like their first-ever basketball shoes, the shoes they ran a marathon in or traveled the world in. They have all these stories and such unique memories attached to them. So I see it as my duty to give as much energy and attention to these pieces as I can. When working on a legacy pair, it's essential to ensure that the client's story comes across in the end product. 

Whereas when I'm working with the Traid stock materials, I can be freer with creating the design because I know that those clients are not receiving the shoe and looking for specific pieces. They're not like, Oh, where's that swoosh? But those clients are always really interested because then they get a whole host of pieces that they've never seen in their life before. So it's a different connection; the voyage option connects people to a group of individuals who will never know their shoes have ended up in this product. With the Traid pieces, I like the mystery to it. 

Shonagh: Have you built lasting relationships with your clients?

Helen: Yeah, because I have such a small number of clients that do the made-to-order process, it is nice to stay in touch with those people. Mainly because many of my clients are fine artists, designers, or architects, many of them are in the creative space, so it's nice to have a mutual appreciation of each other's work. They're worldwide; I've got clients in the US, Japan, and Europe. Because it's only me that's doing it, we have such a unique relationship — I make shoes for one person, so it's very personal. I think that allows me to give people a more individual experience — it's something that you can't get anywhere else. 

Shonagh: You have touched upon how you also work with brands. What is that process like? 

Helen: It's been a relationship that I've been exploring a little bit, especially within the last year after having quite a lot of downtime due to the pandemic. That has helped me to focus on what my brand is and what I'm offering to people.

In the future, I want to make sure that all my brand partnerships and collaborations are as authentic as possible and that they align with everything that I'm trying to do. It can be the case where brands — how do I say this? Brands, especially at the moment, are greenwashing, and because of what I'm doing, I can become this "sustainable sneaker girl." I'm more and more aware that I need to be very careful about who I collaborate with. I need to make sure that I'm not diluting my message. 

However, that said, the collaborations I've done so far, like my most recent collaboration with Reebok, have been brilliant. They were a brilliant partner to work with. With that collection, we used all deadstock sneakers, old samples that they can't do anything with and they can't sell. They sent me those, and I broke them down into component pieces and used them to make new shoes. 

When working with brands, I try to always work with deadstock, old samples, vintage or pre-worn pairs of shoes to ensure that I'm not using new products. I'm putting my foot down when people ask me to customize a new shoe; I'm not doing that anymore.

Shonagh: With the Reebok collaboration, do you still make them all, and how many do you make? 

Helen: For both the Reebok collaborations, I am making the pieces myself in the studio. It is a lot of work, but the good thing about collaborating with a brand is that I can create pieces that are accessible to more people because I'm getting support from the brand. So the price can be more affordable. For Reebok, I made 20 pairs in the studio myself.

Shonagh: It is a tiny number in comparison to the number of new shoes these brands are making. You touched upon some of the conflicts that arise in collaborating with brands. Still, I know other sustainably-minded designers collaborate with brands to steer the conversation and educate them. Is that how you feel?

Helen: When I graduated from RCA, I worked at Adidas for a year as a designer for Women's Originals, and then I left. One of the reasons I decided to leave and set up my own studio is that when I put my work out into the world when I graduated from RCA, I saw it get picked up within the industry, and I saw it become an inspiration for many brands. That sort of lit a fire under me. My work was not about aesthetic qualities; it wasn't, Let's make a shoe that looks like an old shoe — that wasn't the point. When I saw the industry and the wider sneaker industry picking up on the deconstructed aesthetic — broken soles, for example — it ignited something in me to showcase that there are different ways that you can work with creatives in the industry. 

For someone like me that's putting work into the world that is at the forefront, this shift was significant. I realized by working with the brands; I could point out that if we worked together, we could get something much more authentic than if brands just lifted pictures from my Instagram. So that has always been the driving force behind wanting to work with brands. I'm lucky that, the partners and the people that I have worked with, have understood that and want to create pieces that are making a shift, and it's not just for the sake of collaborating.

Shonagh: Have you ever run into any issues with sportswear brands around licensing? 

Helen: No (touch wood). I haven't had any cease and desists. But, because of the work I'm doing, mainly because I'm rescuing shoes essentially from landfills and making products, I think it's tough for brands to say that they're against it. All of us who are working within this sort of realm of upcycling, using other brands products, until there's a solution to stop the products going into landfill, I think it's really hard for them to say, we don't want you to do it, we would prefer it to stay in the bin.

Shonagh: It must have been challenging to go against the grain when you started. In 2014 everything was about newness. 

Helen: It's not easy to go against the grain, and especially back then. I suffered a little bit initially because many people didn't understand what I was doing or the point of it. It's nice now to be on this upwards trajectory. A lot of it is to inspire people to change, to think about a different mindset. I have 33k Instagram followers, and it's inspiring for me when someone will message me and say that after following me, they didn't throw their shoes away, and decided to edit them, cut a bit off, or stick a bit on. For me, that is as much a success as selling a product because it's helping people to understand that there are different ways to think about newness and to think about injecting your personality onto products and taking a bit of ownership back over the things that we buy. 

Shonagh: You have also been doing workshops to teach people how to use waste products to make items. You showcase the designs people come up with on an Instagram called @sneakersculptures.

Helen: Sneaker sculptures is my signature workshop, where we take household recycling, and you make a sneaker sculpture out of it. It's all about challenging people to think about waste, especially household waste, and use it as inspiration for design, graphics, and shape, for all sorts of things that could be interesting — especially in sneakers. We started the sneaker sculptures on Instagram because I wanted to have a platform to showcase everybody's creativity and all the fantastic things they're doing within the workshop. 

A massive part of everything that I do is linked to this idea of community. I am very mindful of the fact that my made-to-order products are expensive. I want to make sure that I can put something accessible out there for people interested in what I'm doing, the process, and who want to be a part of the community. 

When I first worked in design at Adidas, one of my experiences was that everybody was so good at drawing, and drawing is not my strong point. People had these amazing renders and beautiful illustrations; many of the designers came from a product and vehicle design background. I was there scribbling a little thing in the corner that I didn't want to show anyone. So for me, sneaker sculptures are a playful way to invite people into the world of sneaker design without feeling the pressure they have to be necessarily good at anything. That's one of the things I want to try and showcase as well, just bringing a bit more inclusivity into the sneaker industry. 

Shonagh: You have mentioned in the past that you are part of a community of designers that support one another. Who is part of this group, and how do you help each other?

Helen: I'm based in London, where there's such a strong community of young designers. I think what we're realizing is, the more we work together, the more we share our knowledge, the more we can all come up together a lot stronger. Fashion has been such a secretive world for so long, where you don't share anything; for example, nobody knows how much anyone is getting paid. I think, especially as a young designer when you're trying to get your leg up into the industry, it's essential to have those conversations with people and say, How much did you charge for this? How do you do an invoice? All those things that no one teaches you. Then when you start a fashion brand, you're like, What the flippin' heck am I supposed to do now? 

Bethany Williams is part of my community. She's incredible. She's the absolute trailblazer; she's leading the way for the rest of us. I feel so proud to be able to chat with her and be her friend as well. Then there's Matthew Needham, who graduated from CSM last year and is doing a lot of great projects as well. I collaborated with him on our Vibram Five Finger sneakers and heels. Then there's Duran Lantink. He's based in Amsterdam. And is a fantastic up cyclist and designer, working a lot with luxury labels and mashing them all together, which is amazing. Kirsty Eells, is doing incredible work. And then there's Congregation Design, which has many designers from all over London, they are doing brilliant sustainable projects. 

There are a few of us that are supporting each other and working together. The main conversation is, how'd you do this? It is a mix of having that practical support and surrounding yourself with like-minded people that you all have the end goal of doing something better for the world. It's taking your ego out of it a little bit and just trying to see your work as a vessel to project things forward.

Shonagh: How is your work as part of this community seen? Do you think people think that you offer some kind of solution?

Helen: That's always been the thing with my work; I have come up against people asking, Oh, you're not solving a problem. But that's not what I am trying to do; I'm more pointing out a problem. What I try to do with my work is create a dialogue about the more significant issue of overconsumption. I want to start changing people's attitudes and mindsets towards it, but I'm very aware that making one shoe a month is not the solution to the problem. When I go to Traid, I collect maybe 50 shoes, which will last me three to six months. I get a tiny suitcase from their massive pile. But I think it's a start, and I have some big ideas of what can happen next.

Shonagh: I always ask people as the last question what their utopia would look like? What elements would make up yours?

Helen: I would love to see that we can create a system where we develop circular products and create a system for all the products that already exist and find a way to utilize them effectively and not just burn them. Ever since I was little, I've always thought I would save the world one day, so I'm still working towards that, I guess! I'm in a better position than it was ten years ago to do it.