I have never really liked labels. Not societal ones anyway. There’s no sense of enigma when you want to define something. The best art is not defined. Sure, it can be categorised by a movement or year, Cubism for example, but that doesn’t define it. To label is to remove that objects fluidity. If you were at a Zoo, you’d probably point to a Lion who was naturally a bit fed up and say, “that Lion’s depressed”. In that moment you have taken away the power and raw energy of that creature. Yes, he is probably upset that he’s not roaming a bountiful field out in the wild, but if he was, he would probably be feeling completely different. Labels, in that sense are not only temporary, but useless. My boy Plato took this idea to a whole new level with his “Idea of Form’s” concept. But unlike Plato, he wasn’t out here trying to buy a circa 90s single stitch screen stars T shirt #vintage. In other words, when it comes to clothing labels, a lot of that psychology 101 type of stuff is thrown out the window. Luckily for us, t shirts are inanimate but are given life through their owner. Unless you’re copping a Primarni Harry Potter graphic T in which case no matter what you think, both you and Gryffindor do not ‘win’.
That one-of-a-kind Primarni drip
I do in fact enjoy a clothing label. It not only provides you with the date the item was made, but it also can look hella cool. It started with Nike T shirts and my love for the circa 2000s grey label. This was a wonderful design era for Nike in my opinion. It was the turn of the millennium and brands were out there trying to adopt new and futuristic styles. These years saw the company taking air max in a different direction, one that would later become a huge aesthetic on social media a decade later.
ooo these grey labels are slightly more modern but that orange mini swoosh is something else!the beauy of the silver label whilst not mentioned, the Team label has a lot of prowess of its own
I then delved into vintage t shirts thanks to the Round Two Episodes and more specifically Sean Wotherspoon. His love for them had me appreciating terms like “single stitch” and “Hanes Beef Tees” like never before. Soon after came a short spell with Levi’s denim and trying to find Made in USA, 80s/90s pairs. This lasted several months where I was scouring the web looking for orange tabs and silver tabs. When you’re out on the lookout for these specific items, you learn about the different product and marketing iterations that the brand went through year-by-year which is the another hugely interesting part of these hobbies. There are people out there dating jeans simply from the amount of belt loops and types of pocket stitching; it’s just so crazy and cool how people can become experts in such a niche field. I am most certainly here for it.
I’m currently going through a Patagonia phase which hopefully will consist of many joyous knowledge and eBay finds, but only time will tell. After reading B Magazine’sPatagonia Issue on them and being halfway through let my people go surfing, I think the brand has been paving the way for so many years and will continue to do so. It will only be a matter of time before you see other fast fashion companies having to downsize and revert to more eco-friendly options. At least that’s my opinion. Whilst I do enjoy YT’s Arc’teryx track, I cannot help but disagree with him when he says, “we don’t run no Patagonia”. Either way, I’ll gladly run it up whilst others are sleeping.
I was born 1997 in Cairo, Egypt of all places. Born to a Peruvian mother and English father, none of whom had a love for jungle. Their club days were full of Motown and disco records of the 70s and 80s, not the acid and happy hardcore raves of the 90s. Inevitably, this made the chances of me becoming a jungle fan quite slim. Had it not been for one fateful day, I may never have clicked with the genre. This has only been a recent realisation, but a realisation nonetheless.
This genuinely happened completely out of chance. What better way to prove my point.
I was browsing someone’s Instagram story when I saw she had posted a recent Nitin Sawhney’s song. “Nitin Sawhney … why does that name seem familiar to me?” I wondered. I clicked on the link, scrolling through his previous works. There it was, the album artwork for Prophesy shone out to me like a beacon. I browsed the album knowing I had heard some of these songs before.
The first track Sunset was undoubtably a song I’d heard before. It was so unique, there was no mistaking it for any other. The whole production on the album had really been ground-breaking not only at the time, but to me as a listener all those years ago. Acquired Dreams had the famous jungle breakbeat echoing off in the background of the track. There it was. That was the memory. Looking out of the car window all the way back in 2001. It was early in the morning so I watched the streetlights zoom by, one-by-one, as the beauty of Acquired Dreams played as the soundtrack. There was my first taste of a jazz and jungle inflected electronic music and I loved it. As I would only have been about 4- or 5-year-old at the time, this moment faded from my mind but had obviously left a huge impression.
Fast forward to when I’m 14 years old and I’ve just returned to electronic music. This time in the form of Dutch producer Netsky. He was huge at the time with songs like Everyday, Come Alive and Rio . However the song that I’d constantly have on repeat was Eyes Closed. This was my commercial Drum and Bass phase that I did hugely enjoy, but I remember wanting more. The music all sounded too produced and there was this grit missing. I couldn’t quite place my finger on it at the time, and I wasn’t sure where or what to look for either. I was in a bit of strange place musically then because I was switching between this niche Metal genre called Djent at the time. This form of music provided me with that guttural need, the one that makes you scrunch up your face like when you hear a ‘dirty drop’ or when an MC gets a wheel up at a Grime rave. A universal bodily reaction that the music was providing, which in a way is all that matters. Soon after came my Mac Miller stage, this led me into Rap, Hip Hop and Grime during my college days but that’s a whole other story.
I went off to Bristol for University and came across a bunch of people talking about Drum and Bass. One of my first nights as a fresher was a Free Night in Motion, there was a drum and bass room but it didn’t really click with me. I was more absorbed by this Pimp looking figure that had these 3 girls dancing around him in a way I’d never seen before. As soon as arrived that night I was buying a round of four jaeger bombs for me and my mates, which at Motion is just not really an acceptable move. Any adult in the know, would just order an overpriced of lukewarm Somersby and be happy for the night. Luckily a lot of learning was done throughout my Bristol days, and cider drinking for that matter!
Loyal Rave Partner Circa (2016-2019)
Come second year of Uni, it’s around September 2016 and I’m on the bike at Pure Gym, looking out the window onto Bristol Harbourside. I had been building up my Soundcloud since hearing DJ Barely Legal’s Mix Mag set on YouTube. I didn’t know about shazam back then so had to use google’s voice search to try and recognise this song. It took a few tries but after a while, Ramadanman – Don’t Change for mecame up. Bingo, my first triumph. That was a pivotal moment for me because I having not found a download link, I eventually created a Soundcloud account. From there on, I began my research into various DJ sets and resultingly, a whole new world of music.
Copied at the right time for her Ramadanman feature.
That day at the gym, I came across a liquid Drum and Bass radio call Night Grooves. I was sifting through the various mixes they’d uploaded, when I came across this one song that was featured on LTJ Bukem’s Logical Progression – continuous Mix. I can’t remember the exact name of the song but once I heard that mix, it was game over. I had finally found the sound I had been searching for. It had taken 5 years, but I had found it! I must have listened to it non-stop for two months, always returning to it throughout the rest of my days at university. That will forever be my favourite mix and still listen to it now.
This led me onto exploring LTJ Bukem’s era of Drum and Bass, which I would later to go on to find out was actually jungle. The 90s was the pinnacle of jungle, with people like Peshay, Source Direct and Photek all producing these beautifully ambient and other worldly tracks. The sound took me back to my childhood days of playing this side-scrolling sub-marine game on windows ’99. I remember being on a trip in New Zealand and my dad lending me his laptop so I could play that and the infamously pre-installed Pin Ball. Simpler times! The jungle sound had grabbed hold of me that one car journey all those years ago and had clearly never let go of me.
I delved quite heavily into Techno during second year and then French/Tech house during third year of university, so put Jungle on the backburner. Having said that, I did manage to convince my housemates to go to a LTJ Bukem night in third year and it being one of the best events ever. The crowd were all older, so they were truly there for the music. They had lived out their youthful days listening to Jungle in the golden era of the 90s, so unwittingly had beautiful associations with the music like I did. I remember these three guys in their late 30’s who were next to me throughout the entirety of the night, and we’d occasionally look over at each other with the same facial expression. Music can provide these truly personal moments where for an instant, you feel so close to someone you know nothing about.
A not-so-fun memory was missing Makoto’s set in the Doghouse as I had the worst case of tonsilitis in my life. He came over from Japan for his UK tour so shd I not been suffering enormously; I might have even convinced myself to go. To this day, that’s one of those nights that I’ll always kick myself over. The Lenzman remix of his song Golden Girl featuring MC Conrad is one of those great tracks that always help me escape no matter where I am. I told this girl once that I’d have this song playing at my funeral to which she replied, “Do you want your parent’s popping pills and holding up gun fingers as they lower you into the ground or something?”. That image did give me room for thought but I still think it’s a must for the funeral playlist.
I’d imagine the Funeral would look something like this.
Come summer 2018 and I had finished University. Having a lot more free time I thought, “why not try and find some more great jungle tracks to add to my Soundcloud”. In hindsight I probably should have been looking for some appropriate graduate jobs but in all fairness, some of my best reposted tunes are from that summer.
Fast forward to today and I haven’t really listened to Jungle all that much. Having been living in Manchester since halfway through 2019, it was hard for me to find the right venues for such nights out. Not having any knowledge about the night life, I could no longer scroll my Facebook to browse for upcoming events. I find it takes at least two years to understand a city, that process definitely sped up if you get about by bicycle or if you run. Lockdown came about and obviously that was another block in the road. That period didn’t really have me longing for nights out if I’m honest. It was a more introspective period but one that I resulted with me finding Wize Edits, so I am grateful for that.
The only ‘Jungle moment’ I’ve had since moving to Manchester is back in September of last year. We were out for my friend’s birthday with all her mates and ended up in the basement of Soup Kitchen. With it being the first time I had been there; I wasn’t sure what to expect. Walking down the stairs I noticed there was a weird donk or psytrance vibe going on, which I wasn’t too pleased about. There was a real assortment of characters who were all doing their own thing which I did find odd, not having been on the night out scene since pre-lockdown. It was jarring but after a while I managed to warm up. Luckily for me, 30 minutes later the set switched up completely into a heavily stripped-back jungle breakbeat. The set got even better as it delved into this ambient and intelligent type of jungle where the piano chords were being held and built upon. With the classic drums going off in the background, I was finally getting that old feeling again. Stood directly in front of this speaker that was taller than me, I fully embraced that moment as much as I could (and the classic Eggtek Rave Aesthetic). Losing years off being able to listen into my old age, I didn’t care because that old jungle sense was back and I wasn’t getting in the way of it.
Jungle’s one of those genres quite unlike any other. The drums are always there to prohibit your body from staying still. The jazzy piano samples, build up of piano chords or even spacey keyboard sounds are what transport you somewhere else. When I listen to jungle, I feel like there’s a want for unity. I love listening to jungle by myself, don’t get me wrong, but I’d much rather listen to it with a group of other people who are all there for the same reason. One thing for sure though, when I’m back in Manchester, I look forward to capturing that feeling on a night out again.
If this is your first time hearing about Jungle, I beg you just click on some of those links and truly explore the genre’s uniqueness.
These are not in fact the Sports Mafia Boys. Just some guys showing love for Inter.
If you take a scroll through the SportsMafiaBoys IG feed, the uniform is clear. Air Max TNs and a football top. Now that may seem like a pretty open dress code to some, but that combination is only adopted by the few. Whilst the page has recently become slightly convoluted, allowing anyone and their Aunt who’s wearing some hip Nike shoes to feature, back when it birthed there was a pretty strict aesthetic. Perhaps the owner of the page realised there were only so many of these Mafia Boys posting up fit pics on the gram, the rest of them hiding within the ranks of the Mob. Jokes aside, the style is one that is only becoming more popular.
The man himself posted up on a camping chair as previously mentioned.
I first came across this style from the infamous escalopeviandehache. What does that mean? You’re probably thinking. Well, according to a French Columbia Buyer, it translated to “Minced Meat”. This is an apt name for the French-Tunisian as he’s always churning out quality content. It seems like every day of the week that his boys are popping wheelies on dirt bikes, graffing up stationary trains and posted up on camp out chairs (less hardcore but equally as cool). That was back when he was rocking a measly 7K followers. He must have realised the power of his aesthetic as he now, as of me writing this, has 101K followers. No doubt people caught onto his authentic street lifestyle of football jersey’s and Nike TN’s. Whilst I’m not saying he invented the aesthetic, he is definitely one of its pioneers.
The SportsMafiaBoys are definitely a bigger presence within France and Italy. Perhaps this is because their football shirts were always more beautiful than our English kits. I suppose the Arsenal kit was quite nice back in the day but I would be biased in saying that. Take the Paris Saint Germain or Juventus kit for example, the colourways just flowed a lot more. The symbolism behind the kits were no doubt affected by the players whose artistic style of football were attached to the kit. The Brazilian Ronaldo is not only a football icon for his amazing skills, but for his effortless style. He was in a way, the Michael Jordan of football. You can see pictures of him all over football fan as well as Air Max style pages, because his off the pitch footwear selection was always on point.
Ronaldo swagged out to 100
Therefore, people want the Inter Milan kit to feel like Ronaldo or the AC Milan kit to feel like Ronaldinho, because its more of fashion statement that taps into the charisma of footballers from late 90s/early 2000s. Nike’s Total 90 marketing campaign from the early 2000s also had a huge part in creating an iconography around these already hugely recognised kits.
Ronaldo and Ronadinho hugging it out on the bench. Notice the infamous haircut and Neon 95s. Iconic.
I myself have been on the hunt for a Juventus kit with the Panasonic sponsor beckoned on the front as well as the early 2000s Marseille kit. However, you won’t catch me paying £80 and onwards for it. The SportsMafiaBoys style is one that I am definitely a fan of, but never having owned a pair of TN’s, its sadly one I cannot embrace. I can only hope that when summertime rolls around, I get a chance to match my recently purchased Peruvian Football kit with my Air Max 90 Infrareds. That counts right?
Reckon I’d get into the SportMafiaBoys gang with this fit??
I finished this book in 3 days which is a rare occasion for me. It was a breeze to read through. My main commendation towards DJ Target, the author of the book, is what a memory. Most of the people I meet these days say they have trouble with their memories, for one reason or another. I was surprised because often these stories get lost or convoluted by the whirlwind of fame and success. As Wretch 32 said during his recent feature on the Diary of A CEO Podcast, “You just get taken by this Train and you keep moving”. I might be paraphrasing a little but that was the main sentiment. However, in this case Target does not forget the intricacies of the moments that carried him to where he is today. From his childhood spent hanging out in Bow with Wiley, to him and the Roll Deep Crew getting number 1 in the UK charts with “Good Time”, we’re taken on a wonderful journey spanning over a decade.
Having watched numerous documentaries and knowing that Grime was birthed out of the Garage and Jungle movement, I still had a lot of unanswered questions. This book finally painted the full picture for me, with Target himself traversing through the different genres first hand. He was there interning at the studio where Goldie was taking the jungle scene by storm, taking cash out for him with his card. He was there when Wiley was packing up thousands of dubplates in his car trying to sell them to Record shops in London. He was out there in Greece doing shows when Pay As You Go were in their prime. He was about during all these important, genre establishing moments.
“This book finally painted the full picture for me, with Target himself traversing through the different genres first hand.”
One of main selling points, as the book cover gives away, is the feature of Wiley within most of these stories. With him being the Godfather of Grime, I was eager to know more about his early days. I had watched his “Day in the Life” video on YouTube, as well as his various beefs and infamous Lord of the Mics battle versus Kano, yet once again there were a lot of unanswered questions for me. This book helped me establish how pivotal his role was in not only Grime, but British music in general. It also taught me was how close Wiley and Dizzee were back in the earlier stages before things between them went sour. There are little nuggets throughout, such as the story about Dizzee going to Target’s house to buy his old Jungle Records. This is what makes Grime Kids such a worthwhile read.
Another section of the book I truly enjoyed was the entrepreneurial side of Target’s acquiring and selling of dubplates. The consistent hustler mindset that he displayed when selling his records is one that is not only commendable but very motivating. The tales of gaining insider knowledge to purchase pre-release dubs from the different record shops in London had me feeling very nostalgic as it reminded me of when I’d visit record shops with my dad. Granted, I was young so I definitely wasn’t there trying to buy dubplates or sell my mixtapes, yet I distinctly remember each shop having its own tangible feel. I will never forget staring at this Poster on the wall at my local Record Shop. It was Eminem during his full bleach blonde look, holding up his middle finger at whoever was looking at the poster. It felt so personal, yet he had no idea I even existed. What a bad guy. It’s like the stories told by ‘OG Sneaker Heads’, where they would phone up shops and Nike outlets back in the day to purchase shoes over the phone. This bygone era of being in-the-know and physical relationships with store owners is one that I regrettably missed yet could feel through Target’s storytelling.
Whilst there were parts of the book where I would have liked him to delve deeper, such as the Dizzee Rascal’s altercation out in Cyprus, he chooses the more respectful route and doesn’t wish to speak on behalf of his friend’s. In a way, not knowing this information is what grounds us as the reader, creating a sobering boundary between us and the complicated lives lived by these artists. However, this being said, he rarely does avoid the topic matter.
I’m glad Target chose to write the book himself because you can truly feel the authenticity of the stories shine through. Whilst he has worked in radio for numerous years, the ability to tell a story through pen and paper is a completely different skill. What is clear through this autobiography is how DJ Target remains grounded, his love for music keeping him focused. It helps that he never had the attention of the full spotlight on him, playing that Iniesta figure, understanding the beauty of playing a team role.
I recently stumbled upon Simon Wheatley’s website http://www.dontcallmeurban.com . I’ve seen a lot of his work circulating Instagram over the years via the form of mood boards. The picture of Skepta in a fluffy hat leaning against the wall in a local chicken shop and Kano in a white suit looking like Tony Montana would often crop up on my feed. When I found his actual website which was there to show off his portfolio, I was happily suprised by some videos I had never been before. The video of above is a hidden gem, probably not as easily discoverable as it was published on Vimeo as oppposed to the more popular YouTube. The video follows Grime MC Chronik and friends discussing the gentrification of Stratford in London during the follow up to the 2012 Olympics. With the anniversary of the London Games coming up I think it’s an insightful watch into how it affected local communities, a narrative we don’t often hear about.
Gassed to have finally found the Livestream I tuned into back in 2015 with London Legend Skepta and at-the-time Ratking MC Wiki. I wasn’t a fan of Wiki back then, still a bit confused by the two mixing together. I didn’t see how it made sense. In hindsight I now realise how similar both of them are musically in their ability to tell a story and communicate a feeling through their music. I saw Skepta retweet the link back then and tuned in not knowing what to expect. Now a favourite producer of mine, Sporting Life was also at the helm of this livestream, as seen on the left working the decks and drumpad.
This livestream and following collaborations between Skepta and Ratking members would be the start of breaking the boundaries for Grime in the US. Specifically minutes 9:45 – 12:10 are some of my favourite moments in music history, bar that microphone feedback. Skepta has just come and spat his first bars. Sporting Life is feeding off this energy even though it’s only just starting, looking off to the side at Wiki knowing something special is happening. You even get the host himself pulling a “yeah I know” face over to the sidelines too. The stream is just starting but everyone knows the fusion between these two MC’s is sigificant.
Another part of the leavestream that gives me goosebumps comes at 26:45 – 28:50. This is definitely Wiki’s best part of the stream, thanks largely in part to the beat used. You can once again feel the energy coming through the screen as both Skepta and the other DJ are fully vibing to what the US side is transmitting.
Whilst this livestream is not perfect by any means, there are moments of brilliance sprinkled throughout. The video captures these two worlds trying to match wavelengths and get them working in unison. What is clear is that both sides have no issue channeling their raw energy, only figuring out how they can both exist in the same Universe.
The Air Max Deluxe released back in 2018 to mixed reviews. I was working at the Size? store in Bristol at the time, and therefore witnessed this reception first hand. I remember seeing them on shelves thinking they were a decent looking shoe. Not having seen them before, I was intrigued by the shoes unique upper. I was sold by the interesting “oil spill” colourways but was put off by the £160 price point. At the time the Nike Vapormax Plus were flying off the shelves. Although they were £170, we could barely keep enough stock and were no doubt our bestselling shoe. I wasn’t the biggest fan of them myself, the Vapormax line had been a cool concept to start off with but practically speaking, the sole didn’t feel stable enough for me. Whilst an impressive feat of technology, they were more of a gimmick in my eyes. That’s just my opinion though, I have spoken to a few people who have used them as their daily running shoe.
Nike Vapourmax Plus
For the most part, I watched the Deluxe’s sit on shelves. They sold steadily, but it wasn’t till they went on sale that they really started to pick up. I would glance over at them every day, tempted by the loud colourways. The blue, white and orange pair had really spoken to me, two of my favourite colours on one shoe, it was a no-brainer. I went up to the stockroom on my lunchbreak and luckily we had one pair of UK12s. I put them on and to my dismay, they felt awkward. The two little nubs on the back of the inner heal didn’t bode well with me and the upper seemed stiff. Unimpressed, I placed them back on the shelf and left behind the thought of owning a pair.
Days later, the love for them had still lingered. Each shift I’d find myself picking them up off the sale rack. “Give them another chance” I thought as if they were a past lover … after all, beauty is pain. That week they did garner quite a lot of attention, they seemed to be the favourite colourway after the black and iridescent joints. Every time a customer would ask to try them on, I would breathe a sigh of relief when they didn’t say UK12. That was until my luck ran out. I had a gentleman in his late 30s come up to me, an unexpected choice for such a customer but a solid one nonetheless. He’d asked for a size 12 and my heart sank. As I climbed up the stairs and into the stockroom, I convinced myself that there was no chance he would actually go through with buying them. No way. Impossible. I brought them down where he tried on the left foot, took a few steps and looked at his wife. He said, “yeah these are good, I think I’ll take them”. I looked back at him smiling through the pain.
Convinced he was going to bale last minute; I took them up to the till and watched the transaction being put through. I needed to see for myself that the pair was gone, like some form of therapy. My colleague bagged them up, he knew I had been mulling over that pair for some time so had a little smile on his face. The Deluxe’s eventually left the store never to be seen again. A few months later the “No Sleep on Tour” Skepta collaboration came out, but it just wasn’t the same.
Nike Air Max Dealuxe x Skepta “No Sleep On Tour”
A whole year later and the World was a very different place. We were about a month and a half into lockdown and it had been time since I had bought any shoes. Having more time to browse, it was hard not to find steals as people were worried and letting pairs go for cheap. I came across the Deluxe’s in the fabled colourway for £60. They were practically new, so it was an easy decision. A few days later the Post man knocked. It had been a long time coming. I smiled and grabbed the delivery off the floor. Taking them into my room I carefully opened the package, seeing those blue lines shimmer through the slit I just created. I ripped the package open, hoisting the shoe up into the air like Gollum holding the ring in the fiery pits of Mount Doom. They were mine, my own, my precious… Nah, I’m kidding but I was certainly gassed.
Accurate portrayal of me finally owning a pair of those blue and orange Air Max Deluxe’s
It was sunny day, so I whacked them on ignoring my already questionable lockdown outfit. They were comfier than I expected. They must have just needed some time to break them in. “I must thank the previous user via the Depop review” I thought to myself. Since then, they heavily featured in the rotation as they coupled well with the baggy Calvin Klein denim I had found on eBay that same month.
I now vowed to try and pick up any Air Max Deluxe I come across that goes for less than £50. Like some budget version of Thanos collecting the infinity stones. Currently, I sit on two pairs of the blue and orange colourway, as well as the ‘Midnight Navy’ pair that I picked up last week. I recently was watching the Complex Sneaker Podcast where one of the hosts Brendan Dunne, was of the opinion that they did in fact flop. With the US being less of an Air Max market than the UK and Europe, I can imagine him being correct. The Deluxe managed to do well for a first-time reissue, certainly grabbing an entirely new audience that ended up loving this lesser-known Silhouette.
I don’t see them about too much anymore, most of them having been mashed up by the festival circuit the same year they were purchased. No longer do they traverse the pavements of Manchester or anywhere else for that matter. I don’t that mind that though, in fact I almost prefer it. I’ll keep wearing my pair, feeling happy whenever I look down at them wrapped around my feet.
Where had the time gone?
He hadn’t lost it down the side of the sofa,
joining the plethora of other
pound coins which had been hiding there.
He hadn’t accidentally thrown it away
like that pair of football boots
all those years ago.
He hadn’t done either of those things
yet he still couldn’t understand
where it had gone.
Most would stop looking,
given up the search
and rightly so,
no one had ever found it again,
or not that he’d heard of.
Although
something inside of him didn’t like the idea
of giving up.
It seemed wrong.
even if it was the common route.
He looked at his watch
as if though it would speak back to him.
He thought himself silly,
the quiet ticking the only reply
he was expecting.
The room had an eeriness to it,
the objects around him becoming blurrier by the
second.
They had lost meaning.
He couldn’t recognise any of them,
suddenly feeling like a stranger in his own house.
He felt like he belonged less
than they did.
The objects sat there on their shelves,
contempt with the days passing by
with no sign of aging.
No change from the moment they were placed there.
Then he glanced at something that
he did recognise.
An old friend.
The aloe vera growing on the windowsill.
It had seen better days
and could have done with some watering.
The only other thing in this room that been neglected
and had the signs to prove it,
Green and dismayed like an old person
staring out the window of a retirement home,
longing for a change in their monotonous routine
of tablets and bingo.
Obviously, the plant could not play such games,
but if did,
it would have definitely been
a snakes and ladders fan.
The plant was closer to the human
currently observing them,
than the porcelain dog that had not sniffed once
since it had sat on that bookcase.
Which by nature,
made it very un-dog-like.
It was thanks to time that the human
had once again
taken a liking to the aloe vera perched on the windowsill.
Forgetting all about the fact that he was lost,
he filled a glass of water,
gently pouring it onto
the very thirsty friend of his.
It’s 2010. Mackenzie tracksuit tops are big on the school playground. Guys are using those small Nike string bags at school. Those ridiculously small Nike bookbags or also everywhere, as AJ Tracey confirms in his song Provisional License, “Old school I had the tiniest Nike backpacks, all of my books them bent up”. He’s not lying, everyone I knew who used those also had the most mashed up books. Another big memory from back then was the Superdry jackets that had about 50 zips on them. Guys would have them zipped up halfway with the most questionable gelled up hair. Thank goodness for Virgil and Kanye who made it their goal to “raise the overall taste level of the world”. However, my first example of their ‘improved taste level’ was in the form of the shutter shades Kanye used to wear. I came across them in Primark and bought a yellow pair which in hindsight, looked ridiculous.
I suppose for most, your pre and early teens are an awkward stage. People have just stopped being dressed by their parents, so they need to figure out what clothes means to them. It’s a journey to say the least. One piece I look back on with pride, are my Nike Court Tradition 2’s. A pair I in fact recently picked up off eBay for cheap. People have been sleeping on them and let it stay that way. Anyway, my mate and his older brother had a pair. They were the football Coaches kids which already put them on a higher level of cool, at least in my eyes. Having said that, the Coach would without a doubt, wear a pair of these Lonsdale shoes to every practice. What’s worse is, he always pulled them off. The drip was relentless. That’s how I remember it but memory can be a funny thing.
Every time we’d go about town, my mates would be wearing their pair of BRS’. They had the Velcro editions and I’d be glimpsing down at their feet, completely jealous. It took me a while, but after some nagging, I managed to convince my mum to get me a pair. We headed down to the local Sports Direct where I would often window shop. There was an array of DC and Airwalk shoes on wall racks as usual, but I wasn’t after that. I went over to the scary Store Manager to ask if I could try a pair on in my size. He always had a crazy look in his eye, like he would just go off at you if you rubbed him the wrong way. Whenever I’d walk in, there was always a 50% chance that he’d be shouting about something or someone. Hope he’s doing better these days. Luckily, he was in a good mood that day because next thing you know, I was trying on a pair of size 9’s. I went for an all-black pair with laces. The first three eyelets were different neon colours which I thought gave them a nice pop. My mum wouldn’t let me near the Velcro pairs that my mates had in fear that I’d turn into a degenerate. Parents have a funny way of thinking sometimes. I walked out 5 minutes later with a fresh pair in a brown Nike Box (a feeling I truly miss) in my massive Sport Direct bag. Mission success.
The only pair of BRS’ I could find with the different coloured eyelets. My pair was similar but with neon colours.
Since they were a general release and had a cheap retail price, the leather on them was of low quality. This worked out well for me as they had plenty of miles put into them and never creased too badly. The shape of them was excellent and the embroidered outline on the swoosh was a beautiful detail. I really loved my pair and had some fond memories in them. There was this one time I got pushed over by some guy outside my local Newsagents whilst wearing them. However, I was off balance to begin with so it’s not like I could blame the lack of traction on the soles. Bar that one terrible memory, all of them consists of good times and sunshine. I look forward to adding some more positive feelings to the pair I recently picked up off eBay. The Nike Court Tradition 2 is a shoe that I feel a lot of people have a past with, but one that no one really talks about. Viva la Nike BRS!
These were a cold pair that I always had my eye on. The neon eyelet and the 3M heal tab was something else!
[Upon finishing writing this, I may have actaully had the pair above with 3M hit on the back. I feel like I used to want to have the back of my shoe on show for some reason and that seems more than fitting. If that is the case then these were the building blocks that made up my love for the Air Max 95 Neons]
The double up. A classic move in the world of Sneaker Heads. One that really cements your place as a shoe fanatic. That is unless you’re a reseller, in which case you’re just greedy, or as some may say, ‘entrepreneurial’. My first double up was a mistake. Although to this day, I still have the two shoes in my collection. Partly because no one else will probably buy them off me, but also because they hold a dear place in my heart. Let’s go with option two, it sounds better. Anyway, the first the shoe I doubled up on was the HUF x Wu Tang’s from 2014. I remember seeing them online as part of a collection pack with some clothing bits and socks, none of which I picked up apart from the creps.
I think at that point, I was aware of the Wu Tang Dunks, so I knew what having the “W” on the side of the shoe meant. I’d watched a review on them from OG Sneaker Youtuber. It was the guy with the see-through plate that spun round 360 degrees and the intro had a voice clip saying, “I’m an addict to Sneakers”. I’ve linked the video below so you can relive what I felt all those years ago.
When I first saw the £125 price point, I was in shock. That was steep for me back then. No way was I getting the go ahead on these from my Mum. I knew it was a case of biding my time and waiting for the right price. A month or two had gone by and they had sold out of all the online retailers I was aware of. I didn’t really use eBay too much back then apart from researching how much certain collectable figurines were. I managed to find a seller out in the US who was selling a few sizes from his account. They looked legit and for a total of £82, I was willing to take the risk. I ordered them. The first time I had ever ordered something like that from America. How long it’d take for them to arrive I wondered. The awaited time in my purchased items section had said two weeks. That was manageable. Every day after I finished school, I’d rush home to check the status of the shoes. The journey itself was exciting. Until that is, the day they hit the UK. Somehow, they’d got shipped up North by Royal Mail. They had ended up in some apartment building where a lady had signed for them. I spent days with the seller trying to get more information but got nowhere. That was it. All that excitement for nothing. They were gone, never to be seen again.
Upset about the loss I had just taken, I decided to move on. The dream of getting the HUF x Wu Tang’s was over and I just needed to accept it. A few shoes had been purchased since to try and fill the void in my heart, but the gap was still there. I was in college now, over half a year later, sitting in the canteen during my lunch break I decided to browse the Route One website on my iPhone 4. I was scrolling the sale page much like I used to do. Then I saw it. The HUF x Wu Tang’s for £25. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I kept saying “Oh my gosh no way” to the point my friends started to get concerned. Little did they know they were witnessing a Sneaker Head during his finest moments. They were witnessing the art of ‘the steal’. I didn’t have time to explain to anyone what was going on, so I added them to my basket and checked out as quick as I could. Thirty seconds passed and boom, the confirmation email came through. I can even remember feeling that now. Top 10 college moments that. A week later they arrived at my house and I was gassed. I wore them round the house for a few days, pouring over the different details on the shoe. The wait was over. They were mine.
About a month later I was watching TV on the couch at home. I remember it still being warm and light out after arriving back from college, so it must have been at the end of summer. Either way it was a late delivery from the post man. A near five o’clock delivery is a rare occurrence, but a welcomed one. I was confused when the package arrived as it was directed to me, and I wasn’t expecting anything. I looked over the different labels to see an array of different notes on the box. One thing I did know was that it had come from the US. Still confused, I opened it up. It was only till I saw the light green HUF shoe box that I finally realised what they were. No way … it couldn’t be? Over half a year had gone by and I hadn’t heard anything about the shoes I had ordered from America. Yet there they were. They had finally managed to make their way to me. I could barely believe it. Eager to make sure they weren’t fake; I took them upstairs to compare them to my Route One pair. They were good. I didn’t want to confuse which pair they were, so I labelled the inside of the box, “Pair 1” and “Pair 2”.
Today they both sit in my collection upstairs. The Route One pair I took to Uni but never put any serious miles on them. In fact, both are still in close to deadstock condition and in serious need of love and wear. I think they still look sleek and with a pair of baggy denim shrouding them, I could definitely make them work. The only thing that gives away their age is the speckled midsole and perhaps for the eager-eyed Wu Tang fan, the “20th Anniversary of 36 Chambers” label on the tongue. I don’t think I’d get rid of either of these shoes because of the sentimental value they hold, but also for the fact that they have Wu logo on the side of the shoe. Priceless.
wear shoes, write poems 