When is a shoe more than a shoe? Sneaker culture, explained
Sneaker aficionados like to say that every pair makes a statement about its wearer. But for those of us who didn’t grow up fluent in the language of shoes, that statement can be difficult to parse.
Fortunately, this year brought us a textbook-size primer on the subject. “1,000 Deadstock Sneakers: The Dream Collection” is an encyclopedia for sneakerheads – enthusiasts and collectors, who often acquire sneakers via resale markets – that handily doubles as a study guide for those who find themselves navigating the sneaker world for the first time.
Released in October, the coffee-table-worthy tome explains in both overarching and specific ways how sneakers and sneaker collecting became a cultural force. It takes care to explain in plain language, for example, how the internet both helped and hurt the sneaker resale industry, and why one red-and-black version of the Air Jordan 1 enjoys vastly more popularity than several other versions in the same color combination. The answer involves Michael Jordan, whose namesake line gets more than 100 of the book’s 544 pages.
The book’s author, Larry Deadstock (an alias for a French sneaker reseller who shares the name with his shop in Paris), paints a picture of modern sneaker culture that may remind the reader of a religion: That culture, as he illustrates it, has its pantheon of revered figures, but on a day-to-day basis, regular people keep it alive. Deadstock, who wrote in collaboration with the French journalist François Chevalier, writes fondly of the camaraderie of the sneaker resale community: “A passion for sneakers can bring so many different people together.”
At face value, “1,000 Deadstock Sneakers” delivers what it advertises: gorgeously rendered photo illustrations of the nolonger-manufactured sneakers that collectors might consider the best of the best ever released. But its value-add for the uninitiated comes from its pleasant blend of authoritative explanatory writing on the cultural significance of several styles (such as the Air Jordan line and the Adidas Superstar), amusing glimpses at Deadstock’s personal tastes (stickershaped tags announce that certain pairs in certain colorways are a “Purist Pair,” “Over-Rated,” a “True Banger” or “The Classic,” among other designations) and illuminating anecdotes from the colorful world of sneaker resale. One tale explains why a French father paid a reseller roughly $2,300 in 2012 to buy his teenage son the newly released
Nike Air Yeezy 2s, which retailed for $245 – and makes it almost make sense.
Sprinkled among the parade of high-contrast shoe graphics and celebrity photos are chatty Q&As with well-chosen experts, including resellers in Europe, Asia and the United States; a rap journalist; a
Parisian pickup-basketball great; and designers like Salehe Bembury, an alumnus of the influential and controversial Yeezy line.
More than half of the book’s pages, perhaps unsurprisingly, are devoted to Nike creations – and similarly, a majority of the figures the book credits with creating and bolstering sneaker culture are associated with the swoosh brand. Tinker Hatfield, originally an architect for Nike’s Oregon offices, was brought into the footwear fold in 1985. As Deadstock explains, Hatfield drew on influences such as the Pompidou Center in Paris, known for its visible inner workings, when designing the Air Max 1, a running shoe with a visible air bubble in its sole.
“1,000 Deadstock Sneakers” largely credits Nike and Hatfield with making athletic shoes – the kind actually worn for sports – cool in the first place. Tennis stars Andre Agassi, John McEnroe and Mats Wilander, for example, wore Nike’s Air Trainer gym shoe and made it a favorite among sports-playing consumers in the 1980s. But that trio was only setting the stage for the athlete who would bring athletic shoes, and specifically basketball shoes, into mainstream lifestyle fashion.
The Air Jordan 1, named for the Chicago Bulls rookie Michael Jordan, made its NBA debut in November 1984. Jordan wore the shoe both on the court with his uniform and, more radically, off-court with a Nike tracksuit. The black-andred shoes were promptly banned by the NBA for being less than 51 percent white – and a clever campaign by Nike (“the NBA can’t stop you from wearing them”) sent sales through the roof.
However, Deadstock largely credits unsung, unknown people with turning sneakers from athletic footwear into a status symbol into a lifestyle. The Air Max 90, for instance, was originally designed for running, but it “allowed Nike to burst into the lifestyle footwear space because the sneaker became so popular in streetwear.” Because it cost $110 when it was introduced in 1990 – some three times more than an entry-level running shoe, according to Deadstock – in France as well as in America, it became a symbol of personal wealth. Rappers and self-stylized “top dogs” (including thenPresident George H.W. Bush) adopted the style. Similarly, in the 1990s, Nike’s All Conditions Gear line of hiking apparel found surprising resonance in the New York underground rap scene.
And in Deadstock’s telling, sneakerheads are an organic, grass-roots phenomenon that sprouted up around the athletic shoe industry, sometimes taking the industry by surprise. Sneaker resale was a hobby at first, a haphazard network of enthusiasts who camped outside sneaker stores to buy extra pairs on the day of new releases, then sold them at a premium to people who missed out. Thanks to the arrival of the internet and online forums such as NikeTalk, sneaker lovers across the globe began to find one another and collaborate to get their hands on regional, exclusive versions sold only in particular countries.
Certainly, the idea of buying sneakers just to resell them for a profit, sometimes in the hundreds or even thousands of dollars, can rankle certain purists. Deadstock’s more positive spin is that resale is nowadays often “the only way to obtain sold-out sneakers” and “an essential link in the market” for people who might otherwise lack access. In other words, resale likens the sneaker market to a pickup game of basketball: Some may be better equipped for success, but anyone can play.