Fila Fanatic, Force Frenzy; Thoughts on White Sneakers
“Oh god, please, you’ve got to be kidding me!” shouts my mother from down the hall.
She sees me strutting along our dingy green carpet, dressed in my grandfather’s sweater, a new pair of jeans, and my beat-up, dirt-covered, far-too-worn white sneakers. They’re a pair of Converses: Canvas Chuck 70’s in Parchment/Garnet/Egret—basically an off-white color. Think eggshell. I’m on my third pair of them.
Casually, knowing full well how much my mother despises them, I cautiously mutter, “what?”
The fury wipes across her face. She is unhappy. One might even say she’s mad. We’re on our way to a nice dinner, or to a friend’s house—any place in which I’m on display. Her and I have fallen into a habit of contention over these simple sneakers. Maybe I have attachment issues, maybe I need to wear a different pair of shoes, or maybe I just look really good in them. I’m biased but inclined to pick the latter. Yet, in a gesture of compromise, her and my sister bought me a pair of sneakers from P448, an Italian sneaker company, for the holidays. They’re a pair of white sneakers with a checkerboard tongue and heel. These are great as well.
Image Courtesy: Strike WashU
I’ve, perhaps, got a problem. I love white sneakers. I almost only wear white sneakers. As Mark Zuckerberg or Steve Jobs have taught us, habitual fashion can lead to monetary success (albeit, a potential lack in morals as well). Right? I hope. I’ve convinced myself this is true. Slipping on the sneaker, I don’t even think about it anymore. When I’m walking out the door, it’s instinctual.
“Those are so inappropriate! Please, change into something else,” my mother begs. The white sneaker is just so loveable. You see, it’s clean, it’s sharp, it’s dynamic, it’s versatile. Your eyes linger on their neatness. They can fit any situation with ease and style. I guess I’m trying to express not only the stylistic importance the white sneaker has in my life, but how they’ve shaped my own understanding of my style generally. I enjoy basing what I wear around them. It’s safe, and comfortable, maybe a touch boring, but that’s how I like to dress. I don’t need to be flashy. I enjoy wearing subtle tones and colors with classic fitting clothes. The white sneaker is the epitome of this sort of classic fashion. This is not to say that all white sneakers are boring. On the contrary, the globalization of fashion (despite the massive labor and environmental issues) has opened the door for more experimental interpretations of the classic that I worship. Converse might represent one end of a spectrum, but there’s a vast array of bold white sneakers out there. It’s less about finding a shoe you have to wear (Mom!) but finding shoes that make you feel comfortable and good, inside and out. When I wear a pair of white sneakers, I can trust them, rely on them, depend on them. They act as a blank canvas for both the rest of my outfit and for the world I am about to step out into.
“No, I’m just going to wear these.” I boldly declare.
With the speed of a panther my mother responds, “Absolutely not. They’re covered in dirt!”
“Aha! No, they’re covered in memories.” From the corner of the room, watching, my sister groans and laughs.
“Fine … I’ll change,” I boyishly concede. I’ll just wear them tomorrow.
Strike Out,
Writer: Jason Lyons
Editor: Rachel McCarthy
Graphics: Amee Rothman
St. Louis