How Dép Lốp Was Born
Unique to the country, dép lốp emerged from the ingenuity and hardship of war. In 1947, during the early years of the resistance against French colonial forces, Colonel Hà Văn Lâu, then Commander of the Bình Trị Thiên Front (Bình Trị Thiên was the region that used to encompass Quảng Bình, Quảng Trị, and Thừa Thiên-Huế), came across a pile of old rubber tires and inner tubes at a vehicle repair workshop in Hòa Mỹ, a resistance base in central Vietnam. The material had been transported along with machines by mechanic Nguyễn Văn Sáu, known as Sáu Đen.
Observing the stack of discarded military truck tires, Colonel Hà Văn Lâu suggested Sáu Đen try cutting the tires into soles and use strips of inner tubes as straps, threaded through holes punched along the edge of the sole. The result was a sandal that wrapped snugly around the foot with both front and back straps, forming a crisscross sandal style that was light and surprisingly durable.
As soldiers found them comfortable to wear, easy to take off and quick to slip back on afterward, making sandals from tires became a movement. Soldiers on the march would collect every tire or tube they found and turn them into sandals. Within a short time, troops began equipping themselves with their own handmade sandals. Each carried extra rubber strips and a bamboo clamp to repair straps on the road. By 1948, small stalls and roadside workshops appeared in resistance zones like Hòa Mỹ, selling sandals to soldiers.
Because the sandal first appeared in Thừa Thiên, people began calling them “dép Bình Trị Thiên” - “Bình Trị Thiên’s sandals”. Later, depending on region or style, the same sandals were also called “dép lốp” (tire sandals) or “dép râu” (beard sandals, referring to the strap ends that looked like whiskers).
Why Soldiers Chose Dép Lốp
During the wars against French colonial forces and later American troops, each Vietnamese soldier was typically issued one pair of boots and one pair of dép lốp. But it was the sandals they wore most.
Vietnam’s landscapes, being dense forests, steep mountains, flooded rice paddies, combined with a hot, humid tropical climate, created extreme challenges for daily movement. Soldiers often marched long distances, crossed rivers, or camped in wet, muddy areas with little shelter. In such conditions, they needed gear that was both durable and low-maintenance.
Dép lốp were exactly that. These sandals were light, breathable, and quick to clean as a quick splash of water from a military canteen was enough to wash off thick layers of mud. Their thick soles made from truck tires provided traction on slippery paths, and the simple strap design, usually two crisscrossed front straps and two back straps, kept them secure in all kinds of terrain.
Above all, these sandals didn’t just withstand the physical strains of war; they embodied the spirit of endurance. The image of a Vietnamese soldier in a green kaki uniform and dép lốp became etched into national memory. They were functional, but they also became a companion to the dreams of independence, carved from the remnants of an occupying force’s discarded war machine.
From A Wartime Item To Uncle’s Ho Iconic Sandals
No story captures the symbolism of dép lốp better than that of Former President Hồ Chí Minh, or as he is lovingly known by Vietnamese, Bác Hồ (Uncle Ho). From 1947 until his passing in 1969, Bác wore the same pair of rubber sandals. They were made from the tire of a French military vehicle, ambushed by Vietnamese forces in the Việt Bắc region. Despite countless opportunities to change them, Hồ Chí Minh insisted on wearing these sandals for over twenty years.
In one famous anecdote, during an official visit to India, his security detail tried to hide the sandals, replacing them with a new pair of formal shoes. Calmly, Ho Chi Minh remarked, “Vietnam is not yet fully independent. Our people still suffer. These sandals, worn with new socks, are formal enough.” And with that, he stepped off the plane.
His rubber sandals drew curious stares wherever he went. In India, journalists and dignitaries bent down to examine them, clicking cameras and scribbling notes. He wore them across rice fields and into foreign halls of power, during visits to military units and meetings with farmers.
When a strap broke during a visit with navy soldiers in 1960, Ho Chi Minh joked: “Wait, let me get to that tree so I have something to lean on while you repair them.” A young soldier fetched a hammer and nails, and fixed them on the spot. The President smiled and said, “You’re right - they’re old. But they’ve only lost a strap. Now that it’s fixed, they’ll last much longer.”
He explained: “Buying a new pair is no big deal. But if we don’t need it yet, we shouldn’t. Our country is still poor. We must save what we can.”
Today, when Vietnamese people speak of dép lốp, they often call them “dép Bác Hồ” - Uncle Ho’s sandals. Over time, the name has become more familiar than the object itself. What began as a makeshift wartime tool has evolved into a symbol of simplicity, humility, and patriotism. These sandals, modest in form, stood in striking contrast to the polished leather shoes. And yet, it was in that contrast that their power emerged.
Dép lốp reminded people that greatness did not need to wear luxury, that even a nation’s leader could walk in the same sandals as a farmer, a soldier, or a worker. In this way, they became a bridge between the high and the humble, between leader and people, between history and everyday life. Their presence told a loud story: that dignity could be worn lightly, and that strength could look simple.
Dép Lốp Today: Where Are They Now?
You won’t see dép lốp often in modern Vietnam. Sneakers and designer shoes have long taken their place. The craftspeople who once made them by hand are few. But the legacy lives on. In 1970, ten replica pairs were commissioned for display in national museums. Today, you can still see them at the Presidential Palace or the Hồ Chí Minh Museum.
Efforts to preserve the craft continue. Some artisans in Hanoi still make dép lốp. Others are trying to introduce them to a new look in modern times, crafted in a wider range of colors and styles to suit contemporary tastes. Beyond their form, the sandals remain a symbol of resilience, resourcefulness, and the power of a people who walked barefoot into history and came out stronger.
Dép lốp may no longer be everywhere, but in the heart of Vietnam, they are never truly gone.
