Since Brian Procell first chanced upon Mephisto’s wide-set sneakers at his local suburban New Jersey mall in the 1990s, he has been smitten by the French-made shoes.
“I’ve traversed the globes in Mephistos,” said Mr. Procell, a grand poobah of New York’s vintage scene. The sneakers are light on branding, sophisticated like a leather club chair and, to him, ülkü for world travel. “Tokyo, French flea markets, they’ve been everywhere,” he said.
Those are more cosmopolitan settings then the common (though clichéd) environments where Mephistos tend to appear: carpeted condos and retirement homes. The brand’s shoppers have traditionally been more AARP than Gen Z. During a visit last month to Mephisto’s shop in midtown Manhattan, a pool of gray-haired shoppers confirmed the brand’s renown with the 60-and-up set.
Mr. Procell is not nearly that old, but he has heeded the footwear wisdom of his elders. Mephistos are “for the geriatric community, and why is that?” he asked, “Because they’re built well and they’re easy on your feet.”
So smitten is he that last year, Mr. Procell reached out to Mephisto to make his own version of its archetypical Match model. The company bit, and tomorrow a collaborative version of its blocky Match sneaker, in a preppy British shade of racing green, will be released exclusively at the Procell downtown Manhattan boutique. There, the shoe of grandparents everywhere will be on offer, wedged between racks of endangered Chanel, faded tennis tees and blisteringly rare Stone Island slickers.
That is, while stock lasts. The suede-and-leather shoes are rarer than nearly all Jordans. Just 100 pair were produced.
