Sneakers are Time Capsules
Almost everybody can relate to the experience of purchasing or receiving a brand new pair of all white sneakers. Adjectives like fresh, clean, dope, hot and cold, all in this context, colloquially mean “your shoes are cool!”
There is a certain iridescence or shiny quality to your new shoes; they glow like a highlighter against the dark asphalt. Socially acceptable at nearly every type of gathering, you wear them to cookouts, basement parties, sporting events and even the nightclub. Initially, you may pay close attention to the wear on the sneakers, scrubbing away at dirt and scuff marks to try and achieve that pristine “deadstock” visual.
However, slowly over time, their shine fades, giving way to a dull tan/yellow hue across the entirety of the shoes. One day as you go to grab them, you quietly realize they now lack their initial brilliance. A bittersweet moment, you begin reminiscing about all the happy memories made with your all-whites on feet. Specific creases and stains, like the folds of one’s hands during a palm-reading, represent a deeper connection to the past, and the wear that comes with age and experience. The sneakers have taken on a new moniker, they are now your “beaters”. Safe to wear in casual social settings, these sneakers have fully conformed to your lifestyle; more comfortable than any other pair you own, they’ve become an extension of your body and self.
It is often said that “time is the most valuable resource” or “time is worth more than money.” While usually used in a business or productivity context, certain brands and designers, such as Golden Goose, Boris Bidjan Saberi, Ekhaus Latta, (b).stroy, and Maison Martin Margiela (to name a few), have toyed with the idea of age and wear in their design and production. Many creators nowadays focus their practice around “upcycling” and “circular” economic approaches, but one of the most relevant historical examples in my opinion is Martin Margiela’s use of white as a blank slate to accept and embrace wear over time. Growing up around thrift stores and flea markets, he came to appreciate the persona clothing adopts over time, each rip and stain distinguishing the garment from any of its potential counterparts.
For one of his first runway shows, Martin utilized a long train of white fabric to delineate the walking path for the models. Every step across the material acted as a brushstroke, producing a functionally informed textile pattern, which was then implemented in the garment creation of the following runway presentation. An originator of the sustainably-driven apparel movement, Martin’s work in the 80s and 90s directly informs my practice today.
While perusing my childhood home recently, I came across my father’s old lawn-mowing shoes. I thought back to all the years I spent watching him mow the lawn in his all white “Duty Proof” Reebok sneakers (you can google that, they’re pretty obscure). Studying them presently, I noticed the deep creases and tarnishes embedded into the leather upper and midsole of the shoes; they had evolved into an extension of my father’s feet, worn down from countless hours of hard labor. It dawned on me that this pair was wholly unique, from the specificity of the stress locations to the complexity of the tonal range now present across each shoe, there is no other pair on earth that looks exactly like my dad’s; the novel aesthetic earned through sweat and blisters.
My work has been focused recently on a series of deconstruct/reconstruct projects, in which I reduce different pairs of footwear to their core elements, allowing the overall aesthetic to become defined instead by the full functionality of each piece and material utilized in the design. I recognized a unique potential in studying my father’s old Reeboks, the overlay panels stitched onto the upper served as barriers between in the inner layers and all the grass and dirt the shoes came into contact with over time. These sections, once removed, function like masking tape to reveal the original untouched base layer. Upon complete removal of these panels, a new aesthetic arises, forcing a comparative binary between the dull aged sections and the newly revealed pristine white ones, unmarred by the harsh conditions felt by the rest of the sneaker.
Despite the recent trend of faux-distressing garments, seen in pre-ripped or laser-etched denim, as well as Golden Goose’s infamous “Superstar Taped Sneaker”, and the aged material treatment in Boris Bidjan Saberi’s ongoing Salomon collaboration, these designs feel somewhat inauthentic to me. These pieces achieve a look reminiscent of a truly “worn-in” sample from one’s wardrobe, but lack the historical significance and memories normally associated with an item of this nature. In thinking back to the idea that time directly equates value, these designs potentially derive their worth through an inauthentic means (especially when regarding the retail price for some of these designer goods).
In direct contrast to this idea, the dirtied aesthetic my father’s sneakers achieved was earned through consistent use and wear. Further, my hand in the final execution, involving considered removal of leather panels and thread, as well as a hand-stitched reattachment of the toe panel to the inner textile liner, only added more hours of labor to the inherent value of this particular pair of sneakers. This specific color binary could not have been realized without the intense physical effort my father was unknowingly imbuing in the visual expression of these Reebok’s throughout my childhood.
I view these sneakers as the ultimate luxury item, at least to me personally. Beyond the stark visual contrast in the newly achieved colorway (which is unlike anything I’ve seen on the market), the shoes are embedded with over 10 years of effort in honing this worn aesthetic, even if done-so inadvertently. The time put forth adds inherent value to the sneakers, and my liberties in the final design function to highlight these dirtied areas, elevating them to exist as considered forms laying atop the steadfast white base of the upper. Further, I’m able to look at this particular pair and reminisce on a simpler, care-free period of my life, as I watched my father mow the lawn from our porch year after year.
Sneakers are Time Capsules.
