Women's Shoes
Buy and sell women’s shoes in Costa Rica.
In Costa Rica a zapatilla has a heel. The word means the closed dress shoe worn to the office or a wedding, and trainers are tenis, so a search here turns up pumps sitting next to flat chancletas for the beach and suede-soled shoes for a salsa class. Pairs come new in the box or pre-owned, from someone clearing a closet or from a shoe shop. With any of them the deciding question is fit, and a 37 on one label is not a 37 on the next: ask for the insole length in centimetres before you cross town to try a pair on.
Zapatillas in the Costa Rican sense:
closed, heeled and meant for work or a party. The heel decides how long you can stand in one. A stiletto gives out first, on your feet and on broken pavement; a block heel of the same height spreads your weight and survives an office day and the walk to the bus. Ballet flats and loafers do the same job flat. Sandals run from strappy dress pairs on a heel to the flat chancletas that live by the door. Running and gym shoes have their own page under women’s sneakers.
Dance shoes for salsa and swing criollo:
dance academies from Santa Ana to Puerto Viejo teach salsa, bachata and the country’s own swing criollo, and the shoes worn for it are built differently from a party zapatilla. The sole is suede, so you can turn without sticking, the shoe bends easily at the ball of the foot, and an ankle strap keeps it on through the spins. Suede only works on a dance floor. A pair worn on the street picks up grit, goes slick or hard, and stops turning cleanly. A dress for the same night is in dresses.
The 37 on a Costa Rican shoe label:
shops here mark women’s shoes with the US size next to a Central American number, and on that scale a US 7 is a 37. Sports brands and European labels count differently, putting a 37 nearer a US 6.5, and some local makers use a chart of their own. Two pairs marked 37 can sit more than half a size apart. Ask for the insole length, the inside measurement from heel to toe, and compare it with a pair that fits you.
Synthetic uppers and the sole that crumbles in a closet:
most everyday pairs are a synthetic upper on a moulded sole, and new they cost around ₡20,000 to ₡30,000. Used, the same pair rarely fetches more than ₡10,000, because nothing on it can be repaired: a buyer is paying only for the wear left in it. Leather holds its value far better, because a zapatero can resole it. Watch “new, never worn” pairs: polyurethane soles break down with age even in the box, and one that spent years in a closet can crack or crumble on its first day out. Press the sole with a thumbnail and flex it; a sticky or powdery feel is a bad sign.
Heel caps, insoles and the Birkenstock footbed:
turn any pair over first. The heel caps, the small tips that meet the floor, wear before anything else and are cheap to replace, but a sole worn down on one side will tip your foot the same way. Wiggle the heel, check the glue line along the sole, and read the insole: a deep, dark footprint means months of daily wear. Birkenstock sandals are the most copied pair you are likely to meet. A real cork footbed is firm and barely bends from toe to heel, the lighter EVA models apart, and the logo is stamped crisply and straight, with engraved buckles that lie flat. A flat footbed with no heel cup, or a blurred and crooked stamp, gives a copy away.
Insole length, heel height and photos of the soles:
give the size and which label it comes from, the insole length in centimetres and, for anything with a heel, its height. Photograph the pair in daylight from the side and the front, then the soles, the heel caps and the insole, and say honestly how many times you wore them. Mention the box, and any resoling on a leather pair. For dance shoes, say whether they ever left the dance floor. A buyer coming in from Heredia to try a pair of dance shoes will want to stand up and turn in them, so meet somewhere with a smooth floor rather than at the bus stop.