Why I’m not a sneakerhead anymore
By: David Ngo
Tags: Ethical Fashion, Minimalism, Consumerism, Personal Development, Sneakers

sneakerhead [ snee-ker-hed ] : noun Slang a person who collects sneakers as a hobby, and who typically is knowledgeable about the history of sneakers (ed. initially)

As long as I can remember, I’ve always been in love with sneakers. Years ago, it was one of the weird obsessions besides gaming and mangas. It kind of makes me feel special to know about sneakers : their stories, their technology, which celebrity wears them, etc. Growing up in the Paris suburbs, I was living with all this street and hip hop culture. Adding the influence of the media in the early 2000s with US hip hop going mainstream with music videos, Nike ads, coolness of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (yeah we were a little bit late in France, but we already had Dragon Ball in the early 90s), glimpse of Michael Jordan (told you ! we were a little bit late, and watching NBA games was expensive as hell), wearing a pair of baggy trousers, oversized tee, and white sneakers was the grail.

In fact, only the sneakers had my attention !

My Nike Air Max 1 Atmos Elephant 2017 from the Air Jordan 3 x Nike Air Max 1 Atmos Pack, so basically with the Jumpman under the outsole, the elephant print on the insole, and 03/26 written behind the tongue— Air Max Day if you were wondering why

At the time, teenagers like me (or at least in my middle school and high school) were truly at the opposite of “Clothes do not make the man”. I was part of a sneakerhead social group from the campout era — when all sneakerheads were helping and giving tips to one another, stores offering food and beverages when queuing. Yeah I can tell it, I was feeling pretty good about myself while wearing a neat pair which was difficult to acquire, as our reputation was going along with the rarity of our outfit. It’s like having a luxury good, for example a collaboration between Nike and Undercover — a Japanese designer clothing label or more recently all Nike and Off-White collection.

You can tell a lot about someone by checking out their sneakers (how the laces are tied, their condition, the color of the outsole) — the rappers they like, the football or basketball team they support as well as the sport they practice. Today, the social class is also implied (or at least the social class people intend to belong to) since sneakers are so popular. In my very own opinion “Sneakers make the man”. Especially today, where the external appearance prevails, through social media and influencers.

Few years ago and getting older — I’m 30, I knew I had to stop being a prisoner of my sneaker addiction and its environment. I knew I was going too far when at one point, I was ashamed to give figures when talking about sneakers to someone else : amounts, numbers, hours spent in campout, etc. You could say that my childhood dreams of having this pair or that one had vanished. Indeed, every week, a couple of pairs I might be interested in were released. I had to choose, but even though I copped some of them, deficiency was still there. That’s why it’s an addiction. Even when I was travelling, I visited all the stores related to sneakers, I had to bring a pair as a souvenir. I can remember how/when/where I get every single pair. When seeing how strange I was considered by others, I was sure I needed to get out of the sneaker game, from which I didn’t want to be associated with anymore. In fact the rules had changed and I didn’t feel like a sneakerhead anymore.

Fortunately, I wasn’t a social media adept which made it a lot easier to cut the crap. When I’m browsing Instagram and see all those people spending hundreds (even thousands) of euros on shoes, just to get recognition from the likes from unknown people or by acquiring new followers, I feel now that I’m not living in the same world. At the beginning, my passion was only a passion. Just guys having shoes in order to feel good. Now, you have vanity, and speculation. You can see many Facebook groups with wannabe traders posting offers to resell the sneakers they just bought. Here is how it works for today’s “ sneakerheads” (I must use quotes, just imagine I’m doing air quotes) : buy it, Instagram it, resell it, cash in. And do it all over again whenever the new “hype” pair comes out (“If you’re good at something, never do it for free” — The Joker from The Dark Knight, screw you). It used to be a hobby, not a means to feed capitalism and narcissism. In just a few years, the sneaker game is now like chalk and cheese compared to what it used to be.

Resell prices are way higher than retail prices of course, prices skyrocket due to a vicious circle : they see a trendy new pair on Instagram and aspire to be the next one to post it with tons of cool hashtags. They don’t even care about the style, the technology used for the outsole (for comfort, support of ankle and foot, balance). They could be buying fakes, as long as the pair is hype. No more campout and queuing for hours, they can buy bots to get sneakers, it’s just about the money today. Even if you miss one release or raffle, you can still get it later by overpaying it. The Wu-Tang clan are still right : “C.R.E.A.M” — Cash Rules Everything Around Me.

There is a French proverb in street culture “Le rap, c’était mieux avant”, and it’s the same for the sneaker world, I didn’t want to be part of it any longer. The Internet has f*cked up the game. I couldn’t live my passion amongst this new generation of sneakerheads. Check some hashtags on Instagram, and you’ll get it.

Aiming to quit being a sneakerhead, I started to get rid of my sneakers — giving them for free, or selling them but never overpriced ! By the way, it’s funny when you sell something at the right price, a lot of “sneakerheads” (still doing air quotes) think the pair therefore isn’t authentic and has to be a fake. Back in the day, sneakerheads in a city were bros, trying to help each other out in order to get the right pair in the right size, not as a middle-man to get some more money.

It’s in French, but without knowing anything, buyer told me my pair is fake just because the price is too low.

Along with the sneakers, you have the passion of clothes. The cornerstone has to come with matched stuff. Skipping to the end, I’m doing the same thing with fashion. Thanks to books — which I highlhy recommend- like “Goodbye, things” by Fumio Sasaki, “Stuffocation” by James Wallman, and of course “Tidying up with Marie Kondo” by Marie Kondo, I’m getting into a new way of life : minimalism. I’m convinced today, as I’m more mature (or at least I hope I am), that this is the right path for me.

By chance I’m working with guys with the same mentality- among them is a former sneakerhead, who convinced me that I could make it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still buying, but in an other way. Starting with sneakers, even though I’ve never been attracted to fast fashion, I’m being more and more conscious and therefore careful about the ethics for clothes/shoes: brand working conditions, origin of the material, pollution and contamination, water usage, carbon footprint. I’m not using Instagram for fashion anymore. I’m also wearing more and more basic clothing. After converting many people to the sneaker cult, I’m trying to undo this. I do my best to think with the Marie Kondo classic questions like “Does the pair spark joy ?” and now, it’s been almost 1 year without buying any pair and I don’t miss that !

It looks like I’m trying to buy myself a conscience, but at least I’m giving it a shot and if I put the same amount of energy and effort as I used to put in for sneakers, it could work !