“They Are Just Shoes”: Sneaker Culture and how sneakers reflect culture — even in Fort Collins.
Poet Thebe Kgositsile, better known by his rap pseudonym Earl Sweatshirt, made the profound deduction that he should not judge a book by its cover, but rather judge the book by its shoes. I couldn’t agree more.
Unbeknownst to me, I had utilized Sweatshirt’s sociological system of profiling since my early youth. As a Fort Collins lifer, I have learned that this beloved city, through the way its residents gird their feet, values functionality. The footwear traversing the surrounding area of Colorado State University undoubtedly reflects the town’s culture. There isn’t much flash, nor is there much diversity. People buy a pair of shoes, wear said shoes until they break down, then purchase another pair. Contrasting Fort Collins’ suburbia is the inner-city of any metropolis in which the emphasis on footwear and upkeep becomes heightened. I, as I always have, fall somewhere in the middle.
Follow me as I take a quick stroll down memory lane where we meet a short, loose-toothed, well-mannered black child clad in a polo, jean shorts, and a fresh pair of all white sneakers.
Growing up, it was instilled in me to care about the way I looked. I wasn’t brought up to be vain or pretentious in any way, but just aware of my appearance from head to toe — not many, if any elementary schoolers were the same. At Lopez Elementary, about 8 miles south of campus, I received questioning from my classmates for the way I tended to my sneakers. “They’re just shoes,” they would say. After recesses on the basketball courts, I could be found cleaning up my kicks at the water fountain diligently buffing the scuffs out of my size 8Y Nikes while their generic Walmart shoes were bathed in wet sand.
Though I never outwardly scoffed at any of my classmates for their lack of sneaker etiquette, I surely knew people that would. My family members who lived outside of Fort Collins (Denver/Aurora area, and Los Angeles California) put high value in the sneakers they wore. From the authenticity of the “Jumpman” to the shoelaces, the kicks were to be a staple in one’s wardrobe. I, looking up to them, followed suit. Then there were those who did not follow suit who were inevitably roasted. This made me wonder why sneakers mattered to some, but not others. Though I did no official research nor did I conduct a case study as a child, I took a mental note that people in diverse, and most of the times less fortunate urban areas (aka Black & Latino) cared more about sneakers than those in Fort Collins where 82% of the community identifies as White.
Fast forward about a decade and a half, and I make the same observations with sources to back it up. For it has been highly publicized and stereotyped that Black people care about their sneakers, and unfortunately some of the consequences of these racial tropes have been tragic. What is not as frequently discussed; however, is the perceived lack of care that non-minorities have for their footwear, bringing us to back present day Fort Collins.
A stroll around Old Town FoCo will give you a sense that the city prefers its footwear without the frills as little to no priority seems to be placed on the individuality, style, or cleanliness of sneakers. As a matter of fact, the word “sneaker” may not even have a place in the average Fort Collins resident’s lexicon.
Potentially there’s some sort of liberation to not placing priority on the leather, canvas and rubber separating our feet from the ground. Or, perhaps a combination of age, as well as financial and societal security makes people care less about their extrinsic presentation.
Some sort of deeper meaning lies beneath Bill Gates wearing these, (which appear to be Keen Footwear retailing at right around $100) and minoritized teenagers waging war on one another for sneakers that resale for thousands.
So far to date, no reports have shown conflict over Birkenstocks.
