When sneakers become an obsession.
Shoe addiction a slam-dunk for collectors
If Robin Nanad hadn’t managed a strategic series of shoe trades and instead had paid cash for his two pairs of Nike Air Yeezy kicks, he would likely have paid $3,500 to $4,500 for each highly coveted pair of sneakers.
Nanad has a sneaker collection of between 160 and 170 pairs, each worth an average retail price of $240. That’s near $40,000 worth of laces, Velcro, Fly-Like-An-Eagle technology and the star power of Michael Jordan and Kanye West.
“I just feel in love with the addiction,” Nanad said. “Every shoe has a different history for it.” And every shoe, a memory.
Such as the pair identical to the ones basketball player Michael Jordan wore in a slam-dunk context.
Or the pair of high-tops — decorated with a pattern similar to Versace scarves from the 1980s — the launch of which started small riots in New York.
There are sneakers that throw to Woody Harrelson’s character in White Men Can’t Jump, as well as Bugs Bunny, since Jordan starred in the Looney Tunes movie Space Jam in 1996.
How about the Air Jordan 3 Retro 88s (based on a Jordan shoe from 1988) that Nanad tried unsuccessfully to pick up at a midnight sales lineup at West Edmonton Mall’s Footlocker store? When that didn’t work, he hopped in the car and drove to Calgary that same night hoping to land a pair, and eventually snagged them off the Internet.
Nanad, a 21-year-old accounting student at the University of Alberta, is part of the growing subculture of sneakerheads: people (mostly males) who admire, collect, wear and can’t stop talking about sneakers — not the kind you run marathons in, but ones in which you strut down the sidewalk, show up at a club, skateboard or shoot hoops.
Two years ago, about 20 friends joined an Edmonton-based sneakerhead Facebook account to share sneakpeeks. Today, about 1,400 people are part of that group who stay abreast of the latest shoe releases from Nike or Adidas and new silhouettes inspired by Kobe Bryant or LeBron James.
Jerry MacLachlan, an assistant grocery store manager, has a wall of 23 pairs of unworn, pristine Michael Jordan sneakers in his Edmonton basement. He wore pair No. 1 on his daughter’s first birthday and will continue the tradition until she turns 23.
Pivotal in MacLachlan’s sneakerhead history are two events: the first release of Nike Air shoes, which have air bubbles in the sole (“I was mesmerized,” MacLachlan said); then Back to the Future 2, in which Doc Brown gives Michael J. Fox’s character sneakers with auto-tying laces.
“I just went numb,” MacLachlan, 38, remembered. Now, he admires Tinker Hatfield, the architect-turned-sneaker-designer for Michael Jordan. Some of Hatfield’s designs have been inspired by a Chrysler Bentley grill, others by an F-15 fighter plane. Other sneaker designers have made kicks that look like knit sweaters, Van Gogh or Picasso masterpieces. One pair included imitation elephant skin.
“It’s a fun thing,” MacLachlan said. “It’s timeless art. It’s a moment in history.”
“It was something I fell in love with as a child,” said Noble Bains, a 26-year-old sneakerhead who works part time at West Edmonton Mall’s Footlocker store, but full time with a glass company. His passion started with the Pumas and Adidas on the feet of breakdancers, developed as basketball players first laced up with Converse shoes, then culminated in the iconic shoes Jordan launched with Nike.
Bains said people who can’t afford high-end sneakers can “make that outfit look poppin’” by switching up their laces to match whatever hat they’re wearing.
“It’s all about confidence, how you wear it,” said Bains, who loves the idea of hitting the sidewalk dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt and sneakers with pizzazz. “It’s the thing that could stick out of your whole outfit.”
Bains is in the middle of negotiations for a pair of 2003 Nike sneakers sporting the art of French painter Bernard Buffet. Each of the limited run of 202 pairs sports different parts of the paintings, with clowns, owls, little people or dogs. So far, Bains has tracked down a size 6 pair for $6,000. Ones that come in his size 11 sell for $15,000 to $20,000.
“It’s wearable art,” Bains said. “Some of the shoes have the most unique designs that don’t make sense. (To collect them) is no different from someone who wants to collect cars. Some people collect stamps … or comic books at $500 each.”
In the United States, some sneakerheads trade their cars for shoes. So big is the underground resale industry that in 2014, while Nike brought in $100 million, the resale market brought in double.
“People from Nike don’t even check the market; they check eBay,” said Nanad. Shoe releases have to be carefully managed or cancelled due to the potential for riots and violence and gangs waiting in back alleys. Bains does get razzed. “‘You have way more shoes than a woman,’” some say to him.
“Might be true,” Bains said, “but we don’t have stilettos.”