(3/5) The (de)evolution of a sneakerhead. Full article will drop on substack next week.
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When countless pairs of a coveted shoe become available for less than retail and appear 95% authentic, does the pursuit of originality still matter? If so, are there exceptions? If not, what's the new goal? Is it to own the shoe, to claim ownership, to wear it, or to flaunt it on Instagram?
Now, that brings up another point: ownership. Truth be told, I’m not all that interested in owning things just for the sake of owning them. And that comes from years and years and years of moving. From Truckee to Cardiff to Truckee to Santa Cruz to Capitola to Aptos to Truckee to Brooklyn to Manhattan to Brooklyn to Truckee to Virginia City to Reno to San Francisco to Oakland and Sacramento, schlepping things from place to place has become a bit of a nuisance. And to notice the pattern of owning something only to store it and then pack it up for the next home…what is the point?
I like to make use of the things I own. And when I don’t use certain things, they quickly become a nuisance. Why would I want something in my house to just take up space? I prefer to wear my shoes. And when you never really get much of a chance to *wear* all of the stuff you bought *to wear*, the question (of ‘what do I do with all of these shoes I physically can’t wear?’) becomes a bit more salient.
I buy stuff. It gets stuck in my closet. At one point or another…I get a chance to wear it for a day or two. Then it’s back to the closet. And maybe, just MAYBE, I pull it out again sometime in the future for a few more wears. And then, sometimes, it falls so far back in the closet I even forget that I own it. The other day I unearthed a duffle bag in the back of my closet FULL of coats and jackets I forgot I owned. FULL OF THEM! Logically speaking…it’s repugnant. And this yet brings up another point: the issue of waste and sustainability. But I’ll save that for another time.