If I’m in my apartment, I’m wearing these goofy-looking, plush, chunky, and undeniably Ugg-adjacent sheepskin slippers. For over 15 years, these slippers have been the centerpiece of my weird, introverted homebody habits. I got my first pair when I was in my early teens, on a weekend trip to Portland, Maine with my parents. I don’t totally remember the context — I think we just wandered into a random store and saw these — but I remember how giddy I was when I tried them on for the first time.
They’ve always felt like my special, silly, “me time” thing — like singing in the shower. While I love all the activity in New York City, it takes a lot out of me, and I consider it essential to my mental health and well-being to take time to loaf around quietly in my apartment, decompressing and recharging. It’s the first thing I do after closing the front door: shoes and socks off, slippers on.
First, about the sheepskin. Wool slippers are definitely having a moment, and while boiled wool and sheepskin share many of the same properties, sheepskin (which includes the actual skin of the animal rather than just its coat) has always felt cozier to me — the “hand” is softer, the temperature warmer. There are plenty of sheepskin slippers on the market, some at a better price, but I think the Acorns are worth the premium. The rubber sole comes in handy for taking out the trash. The shearling collar flips up for when it’s really cold. The memory foam cushioning is comfortable and supportive. Also, they are not skimpy with the wool lining. I don’t want to trash-talk, but I’ve seen some of the other options on the market and the wool lining is a little … sparse. I know people like Minnetonka, but the interior on those looks a bit flimsy. Same goes for this model from Old Friend. The lining on the Acorns, on the other hand, is thick and dense. They’ll feel too tight at first because it takes a few days for the wool to compress and mold to your feet.
Founded in Maine in 1974, Acorn may be famous for its Slipper Sock, but I prefer the sturdiness of true slippers. I love them so much, I’m now on my fourth or fifth pair (I’ve lost track), and my only gripe is that they lose their luster after four-ish years of heavy use. Eventually, the rubber sole wears through, and the wool compacts and loses its fluff. I’m sure they would last a lot longer if I didn’t wear them all the time, but isn’t that the point?
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