Through the years: Nike's history of sustainable innovation

What began in the 1990s as a response to issues in a complex supply chain has evolved into a business insight at the core of Nike's growth strategy – one that focuses on delivering innovations across its supply chain to create products that are better for athletes, its business, and the planet.
That evolution, which turns risk into an innovation opportunity by embracing transparency and collaboration, makes sense for business and can help solve some of the world's most pressing challenges. As Nike president and CEO Mark Parker put it: "Nike succeeds because we're obsessed with innovation. We are relentlessly curious about our world and how we can make it better. We apply that curiosity to our sustainability efforts, and we continue to learn what is required for real, meaningful progress."
So how did Nike go from the starting line to running full speed toward a more sustainable future? Click on the graphic below to explore some of the major milestones for yourself.

Copy on this page is provided by Nike, supporter of the sustainable design hub

High heels and their perennial appeal: why pain seems a small price to pay

Marilyn Monroe famously had half an inch chopped off one of hers to enhance the wiggle in her walk, while supermodel Veronica Webb claims they "put your ass on a pedestal, where it belongs". I'm talking, of course, about high heels. Those towers of female footwear that combine a plethora of complex contradictions: empowerment, vulnerability, sexual allure, femininity, subversion, fetishism.

Whatever they mean to you, it seems one thing is consistent: British women can't get enough of them. A study has revealed that we teeter around in the highest heels of all our European counterparts, on average elevating our feet by 8.25cm. In fact, a quarter of British women regularly brave stilettos that perch precariously between 10 and 15cm, inspired by the likes of Victoria Beckham, Cheryl Cole, Elle Macpherson and Kelly Brook, all of whom are devotees of such skyscraping styles.
The Duchess of Cambridge, whose dedication to her LK Bennett "Sledge" 11cm heels has been much commented on, has done wonders for the popularity of the leg-lengthening powers of the "nude" platformed stiletto. The £195 style, from the brand's Signature Collection, has sold out numerous times, and the company is currently stocking the flattering, classic court in a revenue-generating 12 colours to meet consumer demand for a new take on Kate Middleton's style.
So what exactly is the appeal of the high heel? Is it an empowering accessory, a weapon in the arsenal of post-feminist women's sartorial power? Or is it a subversive relic from a male-dominated world, designed to cripple vulnerable women in their quest to meet a fashionable and social ideal?
Former Clothes Show presenter Vanessa Scott runs a successful video production company within the fashion and luxury goods industry and – even at a statuesque 5ft 10in – knows all too well the power of a heel. "I'm very much part of the Sex and the City generation and, for me, high heels will always be synonymous with Carrie Bradshaw. Her obsession with shoes was symbolic of a woman's sexual and financial freedom today. What woman doesn't adore high heels? They provide the illusion of instant liposuction and are Viagra for the soul. Quite simply, you look sexier and feel sexier – what man could resist?"
Advertisement
A study earlier this year in the Journal of Applied Physiology revealed that women who habitually wear high heels are at a heightened risk of permanent damage to their knees, hips, back and tendons, because the shoe shape forces the wearer to place all of her body weight on the ball of the foot, compromising stability. This, in turn, makes her compensate for the instability by pushing her knees and hips forward and arching her back.
Despite the discomfort and the potential damage associated with heels, the psychologist Bernard Rudofsky, author of The Unfashionable Human Body, says: "Physical distress is accepted by women if it is a constitutional part of the pleasure of courtship and mating. Women will furiously defend their high heels because any distress to their feet is in itself a form of attraction for men, many of whom feel it is a sacrifice made for them."
Camilla Morton believes the appeal of the heel is more deeply ingrained in women's psyche. The fashion writer and author of How to Walk in High Heels is a disciple of the Manolo Blahnik heel and describes her passion thus: "As a nation, our children are brought up reading fairy stories, and we associate heels with transformation. It's about the glass slipper that Cinderella slips on before being whisked off to the ball. We don't swan around in crinolined ball gowns and horse-drawn coaches, but we can wear the heels with the magical aura. Without a doubt, putting on a pair of heels is totally transformative: they make you feel something special is going to happen. As young girls, many of us looked up to our mothers wearing high heels and they symbolised everything that was womanly in the world. Barbie, with her pink stilettos and feet permanently moulded to wear heels, was everything a grown-up was meant to be: forget the boobs, the heels turn you into a woman."
I, certainly, am not immune to the aggrandising nature of these soaring shoes. While I now spend much of my life as the mother of a four-year-old running around in trainers, brogues or ballet pumps, I have over the last two decades accrued a collection of heels that would not be out of place in a costume archive.
There are beribboned Pradas with spindle-like stilettos wrapped in velvet the colour of Parma Violets. For more vampish occasions, I wear patent red Mary Janes with high-rise heels and matching soles by the cobbler du jour, Christian Louboutin.
I have more silk courts by Anya Hindmarch and teetering rose pink satin Jimmy Choo mules scattered with a sprinkling of beads. Row upon row of stacked boxes bear the names of Rupert Sanderson, Marni, Dolce & Gabbana, Gina, Christian Dior, Topshop, Emma Hope, Paul Smith, Moschino and Ralph Lauren.
Many are the remnants of a more glamorous pre-parenting life, attending fashion industry parties and reporting from the red carpet. They have little relevance in my current incarnation, juggling my daughter's ballet lessons and playdates with my home-based, slipper-clad work as a freelance writer, but I unwrap a pair of heels at every opportunity. This weekend, I briefly discarded my "mum-shoes" for a sexy pair of killer heels and was instantly shifted into party mode for a friend's 40th birthday.
For my first wedding, in 1993, Mr Choo himself measured my feet and handmade a pair of couture Duchess satin heels to match my gown. The magic of those shoes lasted longer than the marriage, and when I wed my second husband last year I wore a wonderful pair of silver, strappy glittered heels by Martine Sitbon – the perfect platform for a diminutive 5ft 2in bride to kiss her 6ft 4in husband.
As someone who is below average in terms of my physical stature – British women are now among the shortest in Europe, with the average 18- to 29-year-old measuring in at 5ft 4in (163cm) – I relish the leg-lengthening opportunity to slip my size 4s into the shoemakers' equivalent of the Shard.
A pair of heels allows me to view the world from a different vantage point. I can look people in the eye, so those who previously looked down their nose at me must view me on their level – a psychological benefit that comes into play socially and in the workplace.
Zoe Mayson, a business psychologist, suggests that I am not alone in valuing the heel as a professional asset. "There are a lot of people who think women do themselves a disservice by wearing heels, but I'm not in that camp. They are a psychological asset, and we can use them to our advantage. I work a lot with men in suits around a boardroom table, and I would never lead a session in flats. Heels give me gravitas that I would not have in lower shoes.
"From an evolutionary point of view, natural selection favours traits that increase our individual reproductive success. Heels get you noticed and give you physical stature, which in turn, gives you power, without compromising your femininity. So often, women have to take on male attributes to be successful in the workplace, and this is a great way of digging our heels in and saying no."
Just look at the self-confessed glamour-geek Marissa Mayer, the newly-appointed president and CEO of Yahoo! in her sassy stilettos and you can see that heels and brains are a potent combination in even the most male-dominated of industries.
Historically, heels have been used as a form of marking power: some 10,000 years ago, tribal chieftains were known to wear stilts at meetings to allow them to look down on the members of their tribe. And, in the 16th century, when European aristocrats adopted the heels favoured by Catherine de Medici, they were outraged when commoners began to wear them too. A law was passed prohibiting anyone below the "rank" of gentry from wearing heels – hence, the expression "well-heeled".
Even in colonial America, under British rule, a similar law existed: "Citizens of common class … are prohibited from wearing boots or shoes of satin cloth or ribbons, or of bright colours, or shoes with stilted heels. All such footwear is a mark of rank and privilege. Those of lesser class who attempt to emulate those of stations above by their attire will be considered in violation of His Majesty's laws and subject to fine or jail or both."
Jump to the 1950s and the popularity of the newly created stiletto heel reached pandemic proportions. Inspired by the creations of Salvatore Ferragamo and Roger Vivier – known as the Fabergé of footwear, women complemented the full-skirted hourglass silhouette of their "New Look" postwar fashion with a seductive stiletto heel, echoing the glamour of Hollywood icons such as Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Loren.
Not until the 1980s were heels the height of fashion, with the advent of Dynasty-style power dressing as women climbed the career ladder, and the infamous white stiletto worn by everyone from Diana, Princess of Wales, to the stereotypical Essex girl, dancing around her handbag to Bananarama – in 1987, the high street chain Dolcis sold over a quarter of a million pairs of the much derided style.
Today, thanks to Carrie Bradshaw, Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik are household names, and £25k-a-year office juniors aspire to own designer heels that cost more than their monthly rent. In an age where princesses wear high street heels to meet the US president, there's plenty of mileage left in the high heel yet.
As the footwear historian William A Rossi points out, "most women prefer a trip to hell in high heels than to walk flat-heeled to heaven".

Designer shoes: why I'm afraid of heights

My feet are killing me: Kylie Minogue sports a pair of Christian Louboutins. Photograph: Brian J Ritchie/Hotsauce/Rex Features
Shall we talk about shoes? Shall we? And then can we talk about handbags and stuff too? A few weeks ago, I mentioned idiotically high shoes and said they were over. I ever so slightly fibbed. There are still shoes for next season that will require mounting blocks and full medical insurance. There are two shoe trends that worry me – one is the "tapered wedge" (© Invisible Woman) and the other is the overlong toe. The "tapered wedge" is what I'm calling a shoe that, when you stand up in it, occupies about the same floor space as a postage stamp. If you're on sabbatical from Cirque du Soleil, you might even be able to walk in them. I can only recommend them if you invest in a pair of matching crutches – that way you'll be one step ahead (ahem).
Personally, I have never really got on with Louboutin – every pair I have ever tried have been excruciating and he will persist in designing idiotically high shoes for idiotically high prices. Although, to be fair to M Louboutin, I will admit to serially trying on his shoes just to see if my tiny hooves can be taught to tolerate them. I yearn for a red instep but I just don't have Louboutin feet. On my last visit to the shop I was almost seduced by a pair of foxy tartan jobbies had it not been for the price, and the height. So, in fact, I rest my case.
The second shoe trend – the overlong toe – is something you're likely to encounter in what initially seems to be a good idea: flat shoes or shoes with a kitten heel. I'm not a fan of kitten heels on the basis that they force you to walk like a duck and if the toes are overlong they trip you up at a ratio of approximately one trip to every three steps. They catch in, on, between or underneath almost anything. They are very nearly as much of a death trap as the tapered wedge and, frankly, my hips are fine just the way they are. I rather like the mid-height chunky heel, though, and not just because I already have a pair in my shoe stash from a couple of years ago. You know where you are with a chunky heel … safe.
Handbags, it seems, are much the same as they ever were and have evolved very little – except that this is where I could work in the metallic trend if I wished. I was a bit smitten with Burberry's leather bowling bag in "cowslip" and I'll be looking out for something similar with a smaller price tag. There's also the smart practicality of the "trapeze" shape, which seems an altogether sensible idea. Speaking of which, I had always thought clear Perspex bags were stupid until I saw a clever Charlotte Olympia one and they suddenly made sense. But I hate swapping bags – or I did until I started keeping stuff in little zipper bags, which makes switching that much easier and opens up all sorts of possibilities for chopping and changing.
And finally, there is good news on the makeup front, with minimal looks being much to the fore, which suits those of us with older skin very well indeed. Keep it looking as bare as you can – a tinted moisturiser is best. If you use powder then make sure you brush off the excess – a dusty face is not a good thing, ever. Cobalt blue is still The Colour but not, alas, a colour I am fond of wearing, and blue shadow is awfully hard to pull off without looking a bit Baby Jane. However, I would use it as a smudged line of blue beneath the eye in the same way Zandra Rhodes does. If you're looking for new lippy, I really liked the mixed-up pink and orange lip seen at MAC. It's a look I can easily adapt as long as I remember that less is more and will remain so for ever and ever now I'm past 50. Amen.

Are High Heels Dead?

A funny thing has happened in fashion lately: Unfashionable footwear is suddenly à la mode.
Running shoes, Birkenstocks, Teva-type hiking sandals and Adidas-style slides were among the low shoes with a high profile during the recent spring fashion shows on the runway—and in the audience. Wide, flat footbeds, toe room, cushiony soles. Slaves to fashion have never been so comfortable.
This is a golden opportunity for the likes of Dr. Scholl’s: After Marc Jacobs sent a crushed velvet version for spring down the runway, Vogue named it “best accessory” of the day. But it presents an essential dilemma to consumers and other designers who must decide whether to adopt the look that Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen and Heidi Klum wear so adroitly: Are the orthopedic shoe and other clunky flats here to stay?
It wouldn’t be the first time that a fad dovetailed so thoroughly with a cultural shift that it became a classic wardrobe staple. Bikinis were once considered a radical experiment in swimwear. Formerly relegated to the working classes, denim is now suitable for the president. The motorcycle jacket, once cult, is approaching classic status. And how many times has someone erroneously predicted the death of skinny jeans? As our eyes adjusted to them, these fashions took on important roles in shoppers’ wardrobes, sometimes pushing aside hallowed fashion rules. On “Miami Vice” in 1984, Don Johnson shocked the status quo by wearing T-shirts under his tailored jackets. The necktie never fully recovered.
Only time will tell if this is more than a fad, but designers who built their repute on gravity-defying heels suddenly find themselves with showrooms full of heels that feel a little last-season. “I know this isn’t [the] fashion right now,” conceded Christopher Suarez, president of the Nicholas Kirkwood shoe label, last month in Paris. He was surveying Mr. Kirkwood’s spring 2015 collection—dozens of vividly colorful, artfully shaped high heels inspired by Japanese poster art.
A revolution in women's shoes has women doffing heels for flats and wearing them places flats were once rarely seen. WSJ's Christina Binkley and Tanya Rivero discuss. Photo: Marc Jacobs
Mr. Kirkwood’s towering platform heels made him a fast-rising star with his own stores in London, New York, and Las Vegas and a controlling-stake investment from LVMH. But he says he is now fending off demands from luxury retailers that he launch spongy-soled running shoes—the antithesis of any design he has ever done. He says he is resisting the pressure for fear that sneakers would overtake the shoes he is known for.
There was a time, just a few seasons ago, when high fashion in shoes meant platform heels. Designers like Mr. Kirkwood and Alexander McQueen “inverted the platforms,” experimenting with the sort of cantilevering used by construction engineers to balance shoes on a platform under the toe. Francesco Russo, then at Sergio Rossi, built his reputation on pitching celebrities’ feet at impossible angles while revealing ample toe cleavage on the red carpet.
Christian Louboutin’s spike heels looked sadistically sexy. But women were soon wearing them to work and to dinner, and growing accustomed to an extra 4- or 5-inch boost in height. The flimsy, support-free ballet flats many women wore for walking were hardly better than heels. Fashion footwear was a podiatrist’s cash cow.
Flat shoes with toe room looked frumpy by comparison. It seemed sexy hookup shoes had become the norm for dressy women’s footwear. But when they fell, they fell hard.
The revolution, like so many, started with several small fires. Isabel Marant popularized wedge-heeled basketball shoes, their springy rubber heels a bicultural crossover between sporty and sexy. Then Phoebe Philo put a few pairs of fur-lined Birkenstocks on her spring 2013 runway. To many of the platform-heeled editors in the audience, it was like viewing a cool mountain stream after a long desert trek with an empty canteen.
At roughly the same time, an Yves Saint Laurent exhibition in Paris was stoking the desires of many designers to re-explore Le Smoking, Mr. Saint Laurent ’s gender-bending poke at women’s evening wear. This led to more masculine looks for women, such as tuxedos, pressed white shirts, creased trousers. Along came shoes to match—wing tips, oxfords, brogues. Prada did thick-soled “brothel creepers”—a masculine shoe with thick crepe soles—for women.
Then, this year, came “norm core,” more a mood than a style, marked by a sudden fascination with the sort of clothing non-fashionistas consider normal: chino pants, denim jackets, and the Nike Air Max. Such clothing is anything but normal to the fashion-obsessed. Hence it is rebellious and exciting. To eyes adjusted to the studded Birkenstock and the alligator tassel-toe Oxford, it wasn’t a particularly far leap to the $695 Balenciaga metallic running shoe.
These days, Christian Louboutin, so recently king of the towering heel, is rolling out high-top sneakers embellished with python or calf hair. Pierre Hardy has trimmed his sneakers in fur. Fausto Puglisi, a rising Italian fashion star, put bejeweled Adidas slides on his Spring runway. Prada put the wingtip in the design blender with athletic shoes and came up with the ultimate ugly-chic crossover: the “wingtip brogue platform sneaker.”
Prices for these shoes aren’t lower than the heels that preceded them. Louboutin’s crystal-studded high-tops will set the buyer back $2,595 at Barneys New York. Comme des Garcons’ playful take on Chuck Taylors are a relative bargain at $140.
For now, flats appear to be settling in for the long haul. High-end stores are building sprawling collections of high-fashion sneakers, hiking sandals and other orthopedic-look footwear.
Even the heel-obsessed are weighing a change. Watching front-row denizens such as Vogue’s Sally Singer, cult retailer Ikram Goldman, street-style star Anna Dello Russo, and Leandra Medine of the blog Man Repeller pad by with comfy feet during last month’s shows was tempting for high-heel stalwarts. Cindi Leive, the 5-foot-2-inch editor in chief of Glamour magazine, said she was weighing the possibilities. She has taken to wearing high-top sneakers on weekends and brogues to drop her children off at school.

But there is one place flat shoes won’t take her—and it suggests there will continue to be a place for the high heel. “I totally and completely endorse the sneaker trend. I think it’s chic and also just good for womankind,” Ms. Leive said this week. “But I like to assume my work height for the office.”