I avoided chunky trainers for years because I thought they'd make me look like I was wearing someone else's PE kit from school. What changed my mind was standing at a bus stop in heeled boots, feet wrecked by half nine, watching a woman in trainers with a proper platform sole walk straight past me looking twice as put together. I went and bought a pair that weekend.
The difference between a good one and a bad one shows up fast, usually within a fortnight. A well made pair has a sole that's dense but not heavy, so it cushions without making your foot feel like it's on a brick, and the upper will be real leather or a decent coated canvas rather than the stiff plastic-feeling stuff that cracks across the toe by week three. Check the stitching round where the sole meets the upper, that's the seam that goes first on cheap ones, and have a proper look at the eyelets and any metal branding, because tarnished hardware after one walk in the rain tells you everything about what's underneath. A good chunky trainer should feel sturdy when you pick it up, not light in a way that makes you suspicious. As for what to wear them with, skip anything with a delicate hem or floaty fabric, because the trainer's whole point is weight and presence, and a slip dress or wide soft trouser just gets swallowed by it and looks like an accident rather than a choice. They want denim with some structure, a straight or slightly cropped leg, or a plain midi skirt that lets the shoe do the heavy lifting without a fight over proportion. They're brilliant through autumn and winter, genuinely good in the wet because that sole gives you grip a thin trainer never will, but they get uncomfortable fast in real heat, your feet swell and the chunkier sole traps warmth in a way that's noticeable by the second hour of a hot afternoon. And they're the wrong call for anything that needs you to look neat and contained, a smart lunch, a formal meeting, a funeral, anywhere a slim loafer would do the job better and not draw the eye downward.
Mine have done three winters now, through slush, through a flooded underpass I had no business walking through, through a Tuesday that involved an unplanned two mile walk home when a train was cancelled, and the sole hasn't separated once. The small pleasure is lacing them up on a freezing morning and feeling genuinely steady on wet pavement, like the ground's finally on your side for once.