The Same Boot, Again: Inside Our Strange Habit of Duplicate Shoe Buying
Confession time. Last month, while hunting for a new pair of winter boots, I opened my wardrobe, saw the two pairs of black ankle boots already living there, and bought a third anyway.
It's not just me. We asked Nicolishoes readers to come clean about their duplicate buying, and the responses poured in. Three-quarters admitted to owning at least one 'shoe twin' — a near-identical second purchase, often bought within a year of the first. One reader from Leeds confessed to four pairs of essentially the same white trainer. Another owns the same ballet flat in black and navy, and says she 'couldn't tell you which is which without looking inside'.
The Comfort of the Known
There's a proper psychological term for this: the repeat purchase comfort zone. When a shoe works — fits your arch, survives the school run, doesn't give you a blister by lunchtime — your brain files it under 'safe'. Buying it again, or something near-identical, removes all the risk from shopping.
Dr Priya Raman, a retail analyst who studies consumer habits, puts it bluntly: 'Shoe shopping is genuinely risky. Sizes vary between brands, leather behaves differently, a heel height that felt fine in the shop can be agony on an actual British pavement. Retailers know this, which is why so many collections are built around iterations of proven silhouettes rather than wild experiments. The safe repeat sells, season after season.'
In other words, that slightly different Chelsea boot on the sale rail? It's not an accident. It's designed to catch the part of you that wants novelty without the risk.
What Our Readers Told Us
The patterns were striking. The most-duplicated styles were:
- Black ankle boots — by a country mile
- White leather trainers
- Ballet flats and loafers in neutral shades
- Brogues or derby shoes in tan and brown
Notice something? These are the workhorses. The shoes we actually wear to destruction. And that, it turns out, is the most forgivable reason for duplication: when your favourite pair is worn to the bone, replacing it before it dies is just sensible planning.
Less forgivable is the duplicate bought for emotional reasons — the 'it was on sale and it felt like me' purchase, the confidence boost of buying something familiar after a bad week. Several readers admitted duplicates they'd never actually worn. One Glasgow reader owns two identical pairs of suede desert boots and has 'worn neither since 2022'.
The Duplicate Detector: A Checklist
Before your next purchase, run it through this five-point test:
- The wardrobe test. Take the new shoe mentally into your wardrobe. Do you own something within 10% of it — similar colour, similar heel, similar shape? If yes, name one occasion where the old pair couldn't do the job.
- The wear-count test. How many times have you worn the original in the last three months? Fewer than five? You don't need its sibling.
- The gap test. Does this fill an actual gap — a waterproof option, a flat for long days, something for wet grass? Genuine gaps are rare and precious.
- The sale test. Would you pay full price for this? If the only appeal is the discount, walk away.
- The repair test. If the reason you're shopping is that your favourite pair is tired, could a cobbler resole or re-heel it for a fraction of the cost instead?
When Duplication Actually Makes Sense
Let's be fair to the habit. Buying a second pair of a shoe you genuinely live in isn't madness — it's insurance against the heartbreak of discontinuation. Anyone who's ever hunted in vain for a replacement of a beloved, long-discontinued style knows the pain. If you find a perfect fit, buying a backup is a legitimate strategy, especially if it's in a sale.
The distinction, I've decided, is between a planned duplicate and a drifted one. The planned duplicate replaces a workhorse. The drifted duplicate just fills a wardrobe with shoes that all look suspiciously alike.
Mine, in case you're wondering, were drifted. The third pair of black ankle boots went back. The money's now earmarked for something my wardrobe genuinely lacks — which, after a long look, appears to be a decent waterproof. Watch this space.
