Holy hygge! These Vans sneakers are like a puffer coat for your feet

As a sometimes insomniac and full-time style editor, I’ve lost track of how many hours I spend searching online for things I really need (fine, want) like the perfect white T-shirt or pair of non-stretch jeans. More often than not, these browser window shopping sessions lead to me unearthing something I wasn’t looking for, but immediately can’t imagine living without.

While this is probably not the most fiscally responsible way to spend my free time, it serves a purpose: uncovering cool things that I then share with you. So let’s call it a win-win, shall we? My latest discovery came at the bottom of a rather deep rabbit hole that found me losing hours (okay, several minutes) of my life on Need Supply Co.’s website.

How do I describe Need Supply Co.? (*Strokes imaginary beard and one very real chin hair.*) The site started out as an online vintage shop in Richmond, Virginia in 1996, but has since moved on to become a purveyor of very cool clothing and accessories for women, men, and homes. It’s a mix of mainstream brands and indie designers that’s as good as any GORP you’d find on a nature hike.

The one item that caught my attention on this visit, however, was a pair of Vans that are basically a puffer coat for your feet. I live for (and in) low-top white sneakers beginning that perfect spring moment, when exposing my ankles won’t immediately end in a bad case of frostbite. And my affection for them doesn’t relent until I’ve literally worn through their soles or have to put them away for more seasonally appropriate footwear (like these high-top trail shoes). So procuring said plush sneakers became the first time I’ve ever considered committing to a single shoe during cuffing season.

To say the Vans Puffer Era Sneaker ($65) in True White are my true love might be presumptuous—I mean, we haven’t met yet. My feelings are entirely based on what I’ve gleaned (and projected) onto them after this one online stalking session: They could very well be the softboy of sneakers, camouflaging their hedonistic nature beneath a quilted upper that makes them appear better than they actually are. But honestly, I’m willing to risk it because simply knowing that they’re out there has renewed my belief in white sneakers for winter. I want to squeeze my cozy socks-clad feet into a pair, right this minute, thank you very much—even if the only place I wear them is around the office, while I countdown the days until spring. (104)

And I know what you’re thinking: How will you keep them clean with all the slush that’s arrival is oh-so imminent? To which I reply: blinding faith, baking soda, and a washing machine. Duh!