Photo of John Mott holding Light Up ASICS prototype LOT 1 using a piezo-electric componant
John Mott: Inventor of the First Light-Up Shoe
The ASICS GEL NITE-LYTE, released in 1993, holds a unique place in sneaker history. Long before children’s light-up shoes became playground staples, the idea came from John Mott, who believed footwear could improve safety for kids and runners at night.
Working with Pennwalt USA, Mott developed piezo-electric film technology that could harvest footstrike energy to power an LED. Unlike later mercury-based systems, Mott’s design was safer and more advanced. ASICS purchased the concept and integrated it into its GEL performance line, resulting in the world’s first production light-up running shoe.
ASICS GEL NITE-LYTE at the Olympics and on TV
The NITE-LYTE wasn’t just a lab experiment, it made global headlines in the early ‘90s.
Featured on BBC’s “Tomorrow’s World”, which showcased futuristic technologies.
These appearances cemented its status as a symbol of innovation.
ASICS GEL NITE-LYTE Design and Technology
According to a German ASICS’s NITE-LYTE advertisement (Art. No. 400 020), the NITE-LYTE combined cutting-edge running performance with safety lighting technology:
Upper: Nylon mesh with Duraskin reinforcements and soft nylon lining.
Heel: Padded with an internal PVC counter housing the LED.
Midsole: Dual-density DuoMax EVA with GEL cushioning in forefoot and heel.
Electronics:Stride-Generated Electronic System using piezo film + chip, triggering a flashing LED each step.
Outsole: Full-rubber with hard-rubber inserts.
Sizes: Men’s US 6–12.
Essentially, it was a fully-fledged ASICS GEL runner equipped with built-in night visibility technology.
ASICS NITE-LYTE vs. LA Gear and Reebok Innovations
It also paralleled Reebok’s piezo-electric experiments in the early ‘90s, where designer Steven Smith tested piezo-electric valves for the Pump system. Costs would have pushed retail prices to nearly $300 (≈$670 today), and prototypes lasted only 30 minutes before failing. Reebok’s CEO shelved the project, leaving ASICS as the only brand to put piezo-powered footwear into production.
Colorways, Archive Samples, and Sneaker Freaker Rediscovery
Today, the White/Yellow colorway is the most remembered, appearing in Sneaker Freaker Issue 48: “It’s Lit!” and in John Mott’s original samples. Below is a photo from the ASICS Archive in Japan that shows the ASICS GEL-TWILYTE, the successor to the NITE-LYTE.
photo via HIGHSNOBIETY and ASICS Archive
Above the description reads: “A lithium battery provides the power for the high-intensity lamp located in the PVC external counter generated by footstrike, the system utilizes Piezo film and computer chip technology. While the display shoe is 2nd model, the first model is GEL-NITE LYTE in 1993.”
The Japanese bio reads: “夜間ランニング時の安全を考案した運動靴。PVC製ヒールプロテクターに埋め込まれた高輝度ランプを、足の衝撃で点灯させる。ソールに圧電フィルムとコンピュータチップ技術を採用した。展示のモデルは第２号で、初代は１９９３年ＧＥＬ－ＮＩＴＥ ＬＹＴＥ.”
For decades, only one surviving pair sat in the ASICS archive, until sneaker media spotlighted the shoe again. Collectors recall them fondly:
“They did light up at the heel. Had the ASICS GEL white and yella wans, great guttie.” This rediscovery highlighted the NITE-LYTE’s role as a lost milestone in sneaker history.
The Legacy of the ASICS GEL NITE-LYTE
The GEL NITE-LYTE was more than a gimmick, it was the world’s first performance light-up running shoe, decades before wearable tech became mainstream.
Invented by John Mott, driven by child safety.
Adopted by ASICS into the GEL line in 1993.
Showcased on a global stage at the Olympics and BBC television.
Predated LA Gear Lights and foreshadowed Reebok’s piezo-electric research.
Remembered as a rare, recalled, but revolutionary sneaker experiment.
While the story is largely unheard of among sneakerheads, it still remains a symbol of bold experimentation in 1990s sneaker innovation, proving that visibility and performance could be fused in one radical package.
Now British Inventor John Mott is selling a number of his inventions at auction via the Andrew Smith & Son auction house. There will be nearly 140 Lots for sale including the Light Shoe Prototypes, Carbon Fibre Golf Clubs, Tennis Raquets and even the Concept drawings. The Lots will also be on display once the auction goes live, giving people a chance to see these amazing inventions in-person.
Schematic Diagram of Light Up Shoe by John Mott – Image via Andrew Smith & Son Auction House
This is an auction unlike any other and celebrates a lifesworth of inventions. The auction will start on the 5th of September 2025 and be live for 10 days. The Lots will all start at £0 and have no reserve, giving everyone the chance to own a piece of inventing history. Also up for sale are two mystery Lots in 15A and 15B, giving bidders the chance to get involved in something incredibly unique.
I went to my Uncle’s 60th in Germany the other day. It was a wonderful affair. Apart from celebrating, I thought it an apt opportunity to look out for abandoned shoes. Although I was travelling with family, meaning finding time to wander would prove difficult.
We took the car to the Euro Tunnel to get over to mainland Europe. Big slay. The journey started off on the right foot (pardon the pun) thanks to one discarded DC high-top sitting next to the awaiting cars. Either some Roadie had decided to part ways with it before starting a mind-bending metal tour in the EU or some kid lost it by sticking his foot out the car window. I’m think either excuse would suffice.
Unfortunately, this would be one of only two shoes I would come across during the weekend trip. Many shoes were dotted along the roadside but due to the fact that we were whizzing past in the car, I was unable to snap a photo in time. I did however notice an awful lot of flip flops, or thong sandals discarded along the French motorway.
Perhaps the Havaianas R&D team would benefit from a European road trip. Equally, any influencers promoting the latest #toesoutsummer trend might benefit from this excursion. Side note – is the flip-flop and jeans look authentically Scandinavian or is it a move from the ruling class so people forget they’re losing more money to taxes each year by the distraction of toe action. Suspicious right?
Needless to say, little to no abandoned shoes were photographed. Later that evening we found ourselves in a cash-only German dive bar. It was there that I spotted the most typically German footwear left on the tiled floor. Underneath the bar stools lay a heavily-worn pair of Birkenstocks, the Arizona to be exact. I didn’t get to find out to whom they belonged to either as they sat there alone the whole time.
I imagine the owner of the Birkenstocks was a local, someone who frequented the bar and enjoyed feeling the grooves underneath their toes that they put in the hours working for. My only other thought is that they were a memoriam to a bar-legend, but I was not willing to find out if they were glued to the floor. ‘Never touch another person’s Birkenstocks’ is a good rule to live by.
The next morning I retraced my steps around the town I had so often visited as a child. Walking down memory lane. All the toy and shoe shops seemed so much smaller than I had remembered. I suppose this is the usual realisation for places people rediscover later in life. I loved it all the same. In fact, it had become more charming a place than I had remembered.
My Uncle, reluctant to splash out on a pair of shoes for my other Uncle’s party asked if I knew of any shoe repair shops in the area. While my shoe knowledge is extensive, I would be lying if I said that I had a sixth sense for where cobbler’s dwell. If I did I’d probably be rich. Or arrested.
A quick Google later and we were in the first cobbler’s. A middle-aged German lady looked us up and down, realising we weren’t the usual clientele. My Uncle, pointing at a loose stitch on his forefoot, gestured for help, to which the lady pulled a face and said, “no sorry”.
Not wanting to have completely wasted the journey, I asked if I could take photos of the shop, which she politely invited me to do. I spotted a very snazzy pair of women’s shoes and asked if she knew the brand name. She shrugged, “I don’t know, I only repair the shoes.” A lady of few words. Germans are known to cut to the chase, allergic to dancing around the point, so I took no offence. Onto the next.
The other shoe repair shop was in the local mall a short stroll away. The man’s shop was small in comparison, more like a pop-up Timpson’s equivalent, although with fewer ex-convicts as staff members. Noticing we were interrupting a friendly catch-up with a local on a Saturday morning, we were hesitant about receiving help.
My Uncle did the same one-shoe dance, pointing to this somewhat broken shoe in his other hand. An animated point of the finger later and the German cobbler shook his head, “No sorry”. It seemed to be an easy response to fending off the English. They know we can never be offended if there’s a ‘sorry’ on the end of it. E.g. “I burnt your house down, sorry”. To which the standard reply would be, “All good, how’s the family anyway?”.
It was at this point that my Uncle conceded to buying a new pair, so off on a shoe hunt we went. Heading over to the next town, a place which had a bigger and better selection of trainers, spirits were somewhat high. Recruited as an impromptu celebrity shopper/stylist, I fuelled up on a mango and watermelon ice cream. I was on holiday after all.
A lot of shops were full of very German-looking leisure shoes. Think Clarks but on steroids. Better yet, Clarks on a mild dose of antidepressants. It was here that I spotted a pair of formal leather walking Strober shoes. I knew little of the brand, but the shoe was so Grandpa, I was infatuated with it.
Suddenly ,my penchant for dad jokes and white socks made all the more sense. The only thing holding me back was the 99.95 Euro price point (discounted from 199.99 Euros), and the fact that my mum told me in a Peruvian-equivalent way that I would ‘look like a geriatric’.
Could I pull them off? I truly believed in that moment I could. A pair of loose sporty diabetic-friendly socks and some beige chinos, chef’s kiss (FYI I don’t have diabetes but I did accidentally buy a pack of diabetic socks in 2018 off Amazon, hence the reference). In hindsight, I am rather glad I didn’t end up purchasing them as it meant I could justify the pair later on.
It was wandering around where I saw this golden boot (not a reference to Headie One’s hit song) and other silver baby shoes. I feel like if I got to the level where I justified buying these as house decorations, I would truly be ‘cooked’.
Here is an interesting sock packaging that I spotted in a souvenir shop. It was a very Japanese present in my mind. Would you be happy to receive this from your partner on Valentine’s Day? Let me know in the comments as I cannot figure out if these are a big yes or a big no.
My Uncle did successfully purchase a pair of shoes for the birthday party the following day. Opting for a Bugatti formal/sporty shoe hybrids in a light brown, the mission was a relatively fun exercise. Even if he didn’t go for the more hybrid sole pair I was vouching for. They looked in the vein of the Nike Cole Haan hybrids from the early 2000s where you would get a formal shoe sat on a Lunarlon midsole.
image via Pinterest
Had I ever ended up in the finance industry, I’d have got a doctor to write me a note so I could wear these. That’s where the diabetic socks would have really come into play. In fact, maybe I should buy another pack for future health-related excuses. Is it a hate crime to dislike someone with diabetes? If not it should be.
Getting back to the hotel, I decided now was the time to go for a wander while the rest of the squad went to nap. Darting straight for the local sports shop, I was eager to relive my childhood-sneaker epiphany by going to the sports shop that started it all. The only problem was I couldn’t remember which one it was or if it was still open. Regardless, I headed to the nearest Intersport hoping memories would come flooding back.
Solid Brooks running shoe selection at the local Intersport
Entering the shop triggered a deep sense of nostalgia. A distinct memory of helping my mum and auntie buy my cousin a pair of adidas football boots returned to the front of mind. Tracking through the racks, it was clear that the shop had a decent running shoe selection. I pored over the prices and sizes on display for almost thirty minutes before heading to the other side of the store where the hiking shoes were kept.
It was then that I spotted the Meindl glowing from afar. Long had I thought about this premium hiking shoe. It’s understated leather upper bowed in elegance and silently spoke to its marvel of German footwear making. I had strolled into many Outdoor shops in the UK to only stare at the high price point of the Meindl footwear selection.
Paying £175 was out of the question, yet the suede and tightly woven stitches called my name each and every time. Not to mention the leather GORE-TEX edition, which reached as high as £220. Now it was all making sense, acknowledging the top-tier quality and the way it poked its head above the rest. The 250 Euro price point was eye-watering but I was eager to find a way of making it happen.
The moment two stars had collided
I discussed the shoe with the Intersport employee, where she took out the insole to see how my foot fit against it. Opting for a bigger size to allow for any foot swell during a hike (hot I know) I went with the UK12.5.
I also decided to go on the obstacle course, feeling no pinch points across the stone edges and wooden logs. I felt like a man in his forties testing out a pair of shoes for a grand adventure. Although I am still in my twenties, I am not the head of a family or a father to any children, so I was coasting on pure adrenaline (a slight exaggeration and artistic license are used here). I was in my element. I felt awesome, as the Americans would say.
The store assistant left me to umm and ahh as I tried to figure out how on earth I could bring down the price. One University discount, size-related discount and cash deposit later, the card machine read 140 Euros. I had won the game of life (or thereabouts).
Walking out of the store, it was obvious that the stars had aligned. Not only had I returned to the mecca of shoes, the place that started it all (to be confirmed), but I had also managed to pick up the Made in Germany Meindl’s that I had wanted for years. Elated, I felt it was right to snap a photo and capture the moment.
Feeling a strong post-success hunger, I decided to walk to a fine kebab shop where I was able to pore over the quality upper in the town square. You can see the slightly confused lady in the background, either that or her face is one of pure envy. You can decide for yourself on that one.
The next day I told my cousin about purchasing a pair of Meindls. He laughed, stating he only knew that avid German hikers wore them, not really hip people in their twenties (not his exact description). I asked if he would ever own a pair, to which he replied, “If you ever saw me pushing a stroller in them, you know I am near the end.” I think the German craftsmanship was lost on him. Needless to say, I am absolutely chuffed with them and they look grand on foot.
Fond memories, cheap bakeries, good value double Espressos and a wander down my footwear-related past meant I was made up.
My Dad and I posted up on the block (like a lowlife?)
Most people have never heard of the New Balance 475. Heck, I don’t think most sneakerheads knew they existed until the recent 2024 retro; I know I didn’t. Now having clocked in over 250,000 steps in my pair of 475s, I can safely say it is definitely a shoe worth having.
I first heard of the New Balance 475 thanks to a boutique in Tokyo called The Apartment. I stumbled upon one of its New Balance collaborations on eBay, The Apartment x New Balance 576 Made in UK “Evergreen”, and was quickly convinced it needed to become part of my wardrobe. Likely a B-Grade pair that was spotted among the discounted shelves of the Flimby Factory Outlet, this purchase put me onto the great taste of owner @taka_toucans.
Here the guys from The Apartment Tokyo wearing the NB 576 collaborative editions
It was not long after that I spotted The Apartment promoting the “Brighton Grey” NB 475, along with a youthful-looking Matt Groening, the creator of The Simpsons. Staged by his sofa bed next to a rack of comic books, Groening’s pose was anything but nonchalant. His pair of heavily worn NB 475s clear to see. I wonder how many steps Groening clocked in them. Suppose I’ll ask if I ever bump into him. Suppose he won’t have the faintest of clues.
Luckily for me, the NB 475 did not fly off the shelves, at least not in the UK. This meant I was able to purchase my pair of Brighton Greys for a tasty £55. After recently dabbling with the brand’s Made in USA/Made in UK models, I was hesitant to go back to any general release. Yet knowing the likelihood of a Made in X 475 was slim, I decided to bite the bullet.
As per usual, when it came down to choosing which shoe would be my sole pair for my trip away, it came to a last minute to-and-fro. Ultimately, I ended up reaching for the NB 475 for my Italian getaway.
I write this as if I hadn’t gone on hour-long walks in each New Balance shoe, trying to figure out which was the most comfortable. I think this is the closest I have come to being a Grandad (a sexy one at that).
While at first I thought that was lame, it turns out Einstein and Charles Dickens were known for taking lengthy walks, so I am in good company. Granted my ponderings were somewhat less ground-breaking. If you see me going for a stroll with my hands behind my back, you know my inner monologue is deep in the trenches over the minimal vs maximal footwear debate. Either that or I’ve given up the shoe industry and have picked up a part time job at a security firm.
New Balance 475 on feet walking at the Teatro Massimo in Palermo
One plane ride later and I was in the Sicilian city of Palermo, its potholed streets a welcome test for the 475s. Originally designed in 1986 as a high-mileage shoe, two years before the similarly numbered 574 hit the shelves. Also, if we are to go off the brand’s numbering system, then the NB 475 is supposedly the less technical runner.
During the late ‘80s New Balance also released several other 47X models which fit into the running shoe category. To the untrained eye, many of these models look identical, even I had trouble deciphering between them. Hopefully, one retired New Balance designer can chime in on the minor differences in that running shoe series? (Perhaps the models were licensed out to different manufacturers or phased out as regional exclusives).
Scan from the back of Athlete Magazine circa 1986 displaying multiple New Balance runners for sale at Bourne Sports
Given the nearly 40 years since it was first released, the type of rubber midsole was not likely a 1:1 match of the originals. Not to mention that both these shoes are now labelled by New Balance as a ‘lifestyle’ shoe. So, unless you used to run marathons back in the late ‘80s and have a diehard fascination for both the 475 and 574, you will likely never see someone run in them – unless it’s for the bus. From a personal standpoint, I would say the 475 is more comfortable than the NB 574.
After each day of exploring, I’d unlace them to find I was in no discomfort. Had I brought any other shoe, I’m sure my feet would have eventually succumbed to tourist foot (an actual symptom which I only just found out myself). Not the 475 though.
One afternoon I found myself perusing the local botanical gardens. Here I sat down on a bench so I could look at the trees’ shadows dancing across the floor. I try to do this every so often, a lesson I learnt from the protagonist in Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days. Of course, once I was done living in the moment, I snapped a photo of the NB 475s. Much like the main character enjoyed his small collection of cassette tapes, I took absolute pleasure in the one shoe I had brought on my trip. Sometimes, less is more. Who knew!
Here is a photo I snapped of my NBs from my friend’s balcony, finally getting the chance to use Palermo as a backdrop. Granted, it was an overcast day, but when life gives you lemons…
A two-hour bus ride would land me in Catania. The city had all the charm of a place with a nearby Volcano. It was here where I came across my first Mom & Pops store – or at least the Italian equivalent of one. I had heard of these places for quite some time, shops that represented a bygone era of sports retail. I was super ecstatic when I had finally found one, spending almost half an hour poring over the small selection of outdated sports shoes on the wall. The lady whispered to her husband that I seemed crazy, I didn’t hold it against her. I think she was just sick of me asking questions about her stock. Don’t hate the player…
As for the shoes on my feet, they kept me at ease during an impromptu photo shoot in Catania. Obviously, I was not the subject of the shoot; instead, I tried capturing the wonderful city itself which managed to pose unashamedly in the warm Sicilian sun.
The city of Napoli was next up on the docket, taking what must have been my best ever train ride up the South-West coast of Italy. Arriving in Napoli, I was escorted rather hastily via car by my Airbnb host. Passing this fast drive-by as a ‘quick tour’, it wasn’t long before the gentleman tried getting me to cancel my booking and pay him in cash. A dicey character. Never trust someone wearing a “Make Money Not Friends” hoodie – it is literally written all over them.
A photo of my shoes strewn across the once considered decadently tiled floor summed up my current attitude. Serves me right for choosing a spot so close to the station. Mind you, it did make for a short journey to Pompeii. Swings and roundabouts. Speaking of, here is a photo of my wonderful shoes with a roundabout in the background (I promise that wordplay wasn’t planned).
I decided to stay on in Napoli, not wanting that experience to leave the wrong impression of the city. This time I headed for an area next to Lungomare. I love being next to water, so surely this area would already be a vast improvement on the room before. While I do enjoy a train ride, living next to a train station is another kettle of fish. Walking along the coastline provided many a photo opportunity for abandoned shoes. The beach seemed to be littered with them, just like the concrete pavements of Palermo.
It was also this walk that took me to one of the best seafood restaurants I have ever come across – Il Miracolo Del Pesci. It was also here that I became fond of Limoncello. Unfortunately, none have come close since. Perhaps it wasn’t the Limoncello, but the friends we made along the way … (I think I heard this sentence in a film before, I thought it was apt).
The next day I headed away from sea level and upwards into Napoli’s hilly mountainside. From this height, the city was observable in a different form. Granted, you could no longer spot individually discarded shoes, but this was easily forgotten as my eyes were busy working its way over the distinctly-coloured landscape. It was high up in Napoli’s hills that I decided to take what was arguably the best photo of the NB 475s.
It was also at this altitude that I stumbled across the neighbourhood of Vomero, a name that has recently skyrocketed in the footwear scene thanks to the hugely popular Nike Vomero 14. This was a happy coincidence for my shoe-obsessed self. After grabbing a much-needed ice cream, I wandered into the Nike Vomero store, but the experience was largely dissapointing.
Had it been the late ’90s, the store might have housed a number of regional exclusives and I could have walked out like some an off-duty Giuseppe Giannini (minus the questionable trim) – sadly I would have been a baby at that point.
After a much-needed day of rest in Salerno, I headed to my final stop, Rome. Here, I spent more time looking up than down. My focus fixed on the enormous statues and paintings held within the Vatican. My New Balances, while perfectly adept, would become shadowed by a historied portrayal of footwear which included a pair of custom adidas Predators gifted to the late Pope Francis.
A huge fan of the Argentinian football team, these boots made the perfect gift for what was the most powerful man in the Catholic Church. No matter who you are, footwear is for everyone.
I hope the current US-born Pope Leo gets a pair of signature Air Jordans so he can dunk on these proverbial haters (haters in this case representing sin and everything evil in the world). They could come in the “Bred”/”Bread” colourway … the opportunity for wordplay is just too good to turn down. Maybe skip the holy water in the midsole part, that might be a little too controversial after seeing the backlash that MSCHF received.
An Accurate Portrayal of Pope Leo Dunking on the Proverbial Haters
I began to wear thin towards the last few days, however this wasn’t the case for the shoes on my feet. Proving just as comfortable as they had been during the first few thousand steps, the New Balance 475s had not failed me once. From Palermo to Roma, from ice cream to Pizza, from heel-to-toe, I have only positive things to say about the assortment of suede and rubber that was wrapped around my feet.
If you’re debating a re-up on your current pair of 508s or 327s, I’d suggest checking out the New Balance 475s instead. If they still look too clunky for you and I have still not managed to convince you, then no harm, no foul – more for me! (Although I doubt the majority of you reading this would have picked up a UK12.5).
Thanks for reading, Shoe Spotting In Italy piece soon come!
It had been a while since I had last been to Scotland. My only visit was a family trip to the Isle of Aaron over a decade ago. It was beautiful up there. I think that was also the first time I saw a Morrisons.
Edinburgh had been on my list for quite some time, a place I knew little of save for a few passing conversations. My family had recently been up with my auntie and cousin from Peru, shouting its praises thanks to set of beautiful buildings and ‘quirky’ coffee coasters my mum had brought back. The latter of which I must confess to have been enjoying these past few months.
Knowing that most of the UK would be covered in rainfall on my birthday, I bit the bullet and yolo-ed it up to Edinburgh. The pigeons at Manchester Piccadilly seemed increasingly interested in my Song For The Mute x adidas Superstars, fooling the avian creatures with the toast-inspired colourway. I felt bad. I also felt like the pigeon lady from Home Alone 2 (she was kind of a baddie in her own recluse way).
Her rizz has never been matched since
Three hours later and I was in sunny Edinburgh. It really is amazing how small the UK is, a detail easily forgotten thanks to the stagnant wages and Political narratives. We are in far more connected than we know. Namaste.
Walking into the old town, a gentleman playing the bagpipes instantly struck a nerve. A feeling of loss and a deep sense of belonging suddenly passed over me. In those few seconds, I understood why millions of men had died fighting for this country, a feeling that even the sweet taste of Irn Bru had previously failed to conjure.
After dropping off my items at the hostel, I went for a wander. My sense of random exploration had been stronger than ever after my trip to Italy (story soon come), so traversing the cobbled steps of the city seemed all too familiar.
I stumbled across an interesting book shop where I skimmed a book detailing the local history of Yorkshire. I came across the word “cordwainers”, a word I had only recently discovered a few days before thanks to the @worshipfulcordwainers account. A Cordwainer is a particular type of shoemaker who exclusively makes shoes from cordovan leather, which comes from Cordova.
Another book featured this footprint-based prank, leaving beachgoers in Portugal scratching their heads. I am always down for footwear-based humour.
All this exploration had stirred up a sense of hunger, so I found a five-star rated Pizza van around the corner and parked myself on a patch of grass in The Meadows. I also took some snaps of my aforementioned Superstars here, a sign the trip was going well.
A quick shower later and I found a last-minute jazz night going on around the corner. A kind Korean lady called Lucy let me take a seat next to her where we spoke about London. We didn’t manage to speak about shoes. Her partner eventually arrived and we spoke about bachata lessons. I wonder what the best shoes to salsa in are. I once wrote an article about breakdancing shoes, but I have never considered salsa footwear. I bet it’s red and sparkly, like the Latino version of Dorothy’s slippers. I could fuck with that, minus the gingham dress. I would be down for gingham socks though. In fact, you could sign me up for a couple of pairs right now.
I ended up staying until the jazz finished. My favourite track they covered was Lament by J.J Johnson. I didn’t see what the five piece had on feet. I imagine their taste in footwear was jazzy (insert crazy tongue out emoji here).
I woke up the next day in my pod-based cabin feeling a year older (literally and figuratively). I headed out hoping to come across some abandoned shoes. FYI nowhere in Edinburgh do birthday discounts btw. A real shame. After a fry-up up I found myself passing through the National Galleries of Scotland. I quickly realised I didn’t fancy spending my day of birth taking in too much history so the visit was swift (hold the Taylor).
It was here that I came across Anne Redpath’s The Indian Rug (or Red Slippers). This was the only footwear-based painting I spotted. Those slippers would make great salsa dancing shoes.
Stepping out the gallery I felt an overwhelming sense of tiredness as I recalled how exhausted I was post my trip to Italy. Copious amounts of espresso and history was a beautifully powerful combination. Yet not one I was looking to repeat on this rainy day.
I then wandered into a retro football shirt shop (lads, lads, lads) and spotted a beautiful Paraguayan Puma shirt from the ‘90s. Had it not been for the £80 price tag, you might have caught me knee sliding up and down the Northern Quarter. Opting for another favourite of mine in the Anelka butterfly celebration would be undoubtedly more practical for the concrete terrain around NQ.
I did spot this cool adidas print advert in an old footy programme. Stern looks, slicked back wigs and leather boots – reckon these two could have really pioneered the #bootsonlysummer movement had they been born in this day and age. Although they would have likely veered towards splitting the G rather than monetising their social media following. As UK artist Headie One had previously voiced, these guys certainly could have been “doing up both”.
Soon after, I finally came across my first pair of ‘abandoned shoes’ in the form of some hotel slippers. Now, unlike a lot of discarded footwear, the client base for hotel slippers is stereotypically a more refined one. Unlikely to be a resident crack head, the slippers would soon come into the possession of one of Edinburgh’s finest tweakers. Appearing to be doing an impression of a pavement-proficient Hugh Hefner, said crackhead would then only be missing a pipe and expensive silk robe to complete the look.
My footsteps then took me into a local Clarks where I managed to stop myself from purchasing a dark green pair of Wallabees. Instead, and as a wonderful testament to my ageing feet, I purchased a pair of supportive insoles. I hadn’t purchased any in donkey’s years, somewhat hesitant of their claims to foot health. I was and still am a believer in building strong feet.
In that moment, the feeling of a new set insoles was more sensible than buying some new £200 leather hiking boots, although that small Italian flag tab poking out from the ankle collar would look real ace right about now. The gentleman also gave me the lowdown on why each hiking boot catered to different people. Also, did you know that it costs about two hundred thousand dollars to climb Mount Everest! Who knew.
Pre this kid absolutely dripped out to the nines!
A few hours of wandering later and I was in the quaint streets of Stockbridge. The many charity shops had me feeling like a 2022 version of myself, scouring the bookshelves for any fun shoe-based prints and information. A £4 copy of The Design Museum’s Designing the Beautiful Game tickled my fancy, but I managed to refrain. Clearly I had grown wise in my old age. Slay?
I then came across The Complete Guide To Stretching with the lady on the cover mid-pose. Rocking a pair of what I originally suspected were Air Span IIs, a little search revealed she was in fact wearing a pair of Air Icarus in the “Grape” make-up.
Interestingly enough, I came across a similar pair minutes later skimming through this 1000 Album Covers book with the curator Michael Och laced up in a black and olive version of the Air Icarus. Paired with the a light acid wash denim, his fit was typically ‘90s. Definitely a look you could have found me in during my time as a stocky in Manny. Maybe minus the black leather jacket and spectacles. His hair was hair-ing as the youth say!
I also spotted an album cover from the Red Hot Chilli Peppers Abbey Road EP that I hadn’t seen before. Apart from the fact that they are obviously naked, the band member at the front, who looks to be lead guitarist John Frusciante has got on a pair of New Balances. Now in the hall of famous New Balance adorned photos, it is no surprise that this album cover image doesn’t feature. From what I can make out, it looks like a pair of New Balance 475s from the angle of his front foot. Given the size of the “N” logo and heel cradle at the rear. However, they could just as easily be a pair of NB 576s or 574s.
Another fun find was this fashion book solely focused on Madonna. We forget how much of a style icon she was back in her heyday. Knowing she frequently features on the Instagram account @trainer.spotting, I knew flicking through the book would guarantee finding a heavy set of webs.
This proved true as a photo collage revealed Madonna wearing white and black Nike Air Rifts, as well as the recently retro-ed Nike Air Max Craze. Having said that, I don’t think the triple white colourway has dropped in 2025 just yet.
Also look at this cool drawing of these blue Tassel Loafers.
It was on the evening of my birthday that I finally came across a solid abandoned footwear find. Similar to the many cases I found in Napoli, this pair of Footjoy Golf shoes were parked up next to a bin. Annoyingly I noticed these during my birthday ice cream so grabbing the shot provided more difficult than usual as I balanced my double scoop in the other hand. I will say that the Kiwi sorbet tasted a whole lot more fulfilling after that find.
Later on during my evening stroll I noticed a number of shoe plant pots. This person clearly had an affinity for both plants and recycling as their porch was decked out with a whole slew of them #sustainablequeen/king. My favourite of the bunch was obviously the adidas Rekords in the corner. Long had I thought about using my old sneakers as plant pots, so seeing this played out my ideas into reality (this idea was pre sneaker plants fyi). You will soon be able to purchase a similar style of shoe pots from my Etsy account (big things soon come).
I would have loved to speak to the owner of the house, but knocking on their door at near-midnight would not have faired well in terms of a friendly interaction. Now I think about it I could have posted a slip through the door asking them to send me a reply via email but I think that would constitute as ‘doing too much’, or perhaps harassment… it’s a fine line.
The next day provided less footwear-based thrills. This was mainly due to the fact that I was relatively pooped by that point. A quick tram journey down Leith walk informed me of this oddly named tram stop. Bar that the Sunday was quiet.
Shivering my way back to Manchester thanks to a heavily air-conditioned train cabin made the journey all the longer. Planting my tooties back in Manny, I realised how vibrant Cottonopolis actually was. This could have been due to Park Life taking place up the road, so the amount of Nike Miller Ts and Under Armour shorts were out doing the rounds.
As the double espresso now begins to wear out, I will say that I would love to return to Scotland again. Next time I’ll put a heavier focus on highland cows, regardless of the fact that they don’t wear shoes.
Do you feel complete? What do you mean? Complete. Huh? Finished. No I wouldn't say so. Do you? I don't think so. How can you tell? That's a good point. We're not even thirty. Are people complete at thirty? I don't think so. People have meltdowns at thirty. People are always having meltdowns. Not like the ones you get at thirty. How would you know? You're 24. I've seen them. On the train, the supermarkets, you can see it in their eyes. So now you're a meltdown expert? No. It's just obvious. Look at that man over there. Which one? The guy with the denim hat. Does he look happy to you? Sure. Yeah he does. Look closer. I don't want to get up though. Not like that silly, with your eyes. Really look. Hmm he's wearing velcro shoes. And? And that means he's a man child. No. Okay what does it mean then Mr meltdown. It means he's in pain. Righhhht. And how did you come to that conclusion? Well, no one loved him enough to tell him how to tie his shoes when he was younger. Because he has velcro shoes? Yeh, and when he puts on his shoes he is instantly reminded of his childhood loneliness. I think you're reaching. I don't think I am. Does anyone you know own velcro shoes in your life? Not that I can think of. Oh wait, my grandpa used to have velcro shoes. Well there you go. What do you mean, there you go? He had arthritis. So he was in pain. I mean I guess. And therefore he was unhappy. No. He was unhappy at times because he missed my grandma. Either way. He was in pain and he wore velcro shoes. There is no correlation. That's what he wanted you to think. Right, so all kids wearing velcro shoes are unhappy too are they? Yep. Now you are lost. They just haven't learnt yet. Learnt what? Learned how to tie their own shoes. Because? Because they're too young. You can never be too young to tie your shoes. Says who? Einstein. Now I know you're lying. He learnt to tie his shoes at two months old. So he was baby wearing shoe laces. Lies. No lies here m'dear. Everyone knows Einstein was chronically sad though. I didn't. Well now you do Mr Velcro shoes. I would never have been able to tell with his tied shoes. Great. More to the point. Where are your laces? I don't want to talk about it.
I headed up on the Friday afternoon in a pair of New Balance 996. An apt choice considering I’d be walking down memory lane in both senses of the term. There is likely a street called “Memory Lane” in Manchester. That said, I did not see it.
NB 996s laced up, a shoe considered the connoisseurs’ choice within the community, I made my way up to the red brick city. It was a while until I came across my first pair of abandoned shoes.
After celebrating my mate’s 30th birthday, Sunday was somewhat of a struggle. Breaking out of the hangover slump, I trekked over to Victoria Baths where the kilo sale was. On the route I came across these youth-sized Nikes. Whether they were actually discarded or not I am unsure. Sat suspiciously close to a set of bins, it was also safe to assume the owner was ready to part ways.
I eventually made it to the kilo sale fair. Disappointing. No stripey jumpers. At least no really cool ones. It was, however nice to be back within the old bathing halls. I soon left and an hour later scoured the bookshelves of a charity shop. Picking out a book dedicated to fixed pedal riders, I spotted a wonderful ode to a pair of beaten up ASICS. Its outsole had been smeared through months of functioning as an impromptu break. Look at the trainers of fixed gear enthusiasts and they will likely tell the same story.
Picking up a case study guide to the Bend It Like Beckham movie, I hoped to find more behind-the-scenes photos of the film. Predators, adidas Superstars – often highlighted by IG mood board accounts, the book could deliver on never-before-seen images. Alas, the book left much to be desired. Snapping up a photo of a young Kira Knightly sporting Predator boots was the best the book had to offer, leaving it tucked between a collection of old ‘80s Rock magazines once more.
Walking around the centre, I had spotted a seriously quirky set of door handles to a hotel. Silver Boots for door handles could just be the first addition to my future house. I am relatively certain my future wife would approve, let alone allow such a feature on our front door. I’ll have to settle on them being used for the lounge, or failing that a cupboard full of shoes. I think the idea sounds a lot better as just that, an idea.
I think the main concern would be finding a wife first. Maybe I’ll endorse the silver boots as a fallback plan. A symbol of self-defeat. A sign that I have signed up to the idea of life as a single man for the remainder or my days on earth. They were kind of hideous in hindsight. But cool too! Hideously cool? Anyway enough about myself…
Picking up a copy of the Nike x Phaidon Look Good, Feel Good, Play Good in Unitom was how I found out that a fellow stockroom alumni was a published photographer. Featuring in one of his books that detailed a number of Japanese of women captured via polaroid. Among the scantily clad ladies I spotted an interesting photo of a pair of OG Neon 95s. As an actual icon of footwear design, the 110 has been shot countless times. Yet this was the first time I had spotted the shoe paired with a pink vibrator. I suppose it goes back to the old saying – if it can exist, it probably does.
On the walk back from town, it suddenly hit me how much rubbish was dotted about the streets of south Manchester. I’m unsure if I had become conditioned to it during my time living in the city, but during this visit I could not help but notice it everywhere. This did work to my advantage, providing me with two more pairs of abandoned shoes to bring up a total of three during my long Sunday walk.
Making my way to the area of Ancoats I noticed a pair of black and white Adilette’s hiding in a bramble bush. How or why they were there is anyone’s guess. Being a fan of the Atlanta-based legend Future, my mind instantly drifted back to a classic post in The Basement post where a girl burnt her boyfriend’s Gucci Flip Flops.
Granted this version isn’t as cool, but throwing away your ex-lover’s Adilettes is a power move. Think of the amount of time he spent in them in his flat aka his safe space, to then brutally designate them to a life in a lonely Ancoats bramble bush. God giveth and God taketh away. Revenge is a dish best served cold as they say. Oh, he cheated on her in this hypothetical example if that wasn’t already clear.
As I was trying to get a clear photo, a wonderful example of the hip Ancoats couple walked past. Hearing one of them chuckle at what was likely me photographing a littered bush, I couldn’t help but wish them a similar fate. I hope he doesn’t get too comfortable with his flip flops. I am acutely aware that I was playing out another cliché of the Ancoats creative don’t worry. Although I question how many of those said creatives have stopped to admire this bush (pause).
Further on, I identified some black boots strewn away by a set of typically red brick flats. Being on the other side of a black metal fence and just having walked past two questionable characters, I did not dedicate much effort trying to pap them. Conscious that I was giving off ‘fed behaviour’ by photographing a possible trap house or worse, a murder site, I swiftly moved on.
The following day I headed away from the city centre and into the suburbs of Didsbury. Spending a large portion of time in The Art Of Tea book shop, I came away with a great set of images.
Mostly from a Women’s Bodybuilding book from the ‘70s, the pages full of images of Laura Combes training. Now while her physique was a testament to her relentless work at the church of iron, that was not the focal point of my interest. Laced up on her feet was what looked like a New Balance 730, a shoe I had recently purchased myself.
Worn by Andy Warhol, it is a testament to the NB 730s utilitarian design, favoured by the athlete and artist. One thing about ‘tennis shoes’ during that era was that wearing them outside the realm of sport was a new concept. Seldom had they been comfortable or cool enough, since the ‘60s saw the introduction of the Chuck and finally a move away from the minimal design of the Plimsole. Seeing real use cases such as on the feet of Bodybuilding icon Laura Combes is exactly what I live for. It is another reason why accounts such as @Trainerspotting has blown up over the years. Granted, the account often focuses on celebrities, but people still love seeing the shoes worn in real-life contexts. In the ’60s and ‘70s people bought these new models because they thought one thing, ‘those look cool’.
There are only two photos which feature Combes wearing another shoe in this bodybuilding guide, the Nike Wimbledons or Court edition (Blazer perhaps). A fat retro Swoosh across the sidewall, a toe tip and bar laces scream out the ‘70s. Not to mention the shot of her getting in some behind-the-head lat pulldowns, just more proof that her upper back would have been uncontestably shredded under the lights.
That sporting or bodily health section provided ample insights into the world of women’s fitness during that 70s and 80s era. Books that would have been swept up by Sporty & Rich founder Emily Oberg had she been the one digging. I grabbed a photo of this lady focusing on her calf raises, yet the shoe brand evades me – likely a domestic company that had a solid share of the fitness market but has since been liquidated.
In another fashion section I picked up a gentleman’s fashion book from the ‘90s. An era which had men becoming increasingly aware of what clothes to wear. One image stood out from a mile away, showcasing a then-newly released Air Max 97 “Silver Bullets”.
Under the acceptable “Casual Friday” fit, the book reads “If the boss lopes around in Nikes, you probably can too, if not, go with brown leather. If you’re the boss, wear what you damn please.” Ahhh the era of strict office attire, one I fortunately have no experience in. If you catch me sitting at a cubicle under some cold light from 9-5, you have permission to “shake me out of it” using whatever method required (bar the use of murder or dismemberment). For now, I’ll stick to writing about shoes.
Currently I sit on the train home. Sun flickering across my face as I write this. It is 17:00 and the sun is setting, life is alright.
Everywhere you look, shoes are left to their demise. A universal sign of emptiness. Sat in a shop window. Sat by the front door. A pair to pop the to shops in. Knock about the house in. Take the bins out in. Kicked off in the heat of the moment. Dangling from a tree. A rite of a passage. Waiting for repair. Caught in a mosh pit. An impatient child. Lost by someone equally as lost. An angry ex. Too far gone. Too soggy for indoors. A drunken night out. A prank gone wrong. Unwanted waste. All without an owner. Unfinished stories. Open endings strewn across the floor.
From time to time we return to sea knowing I needed it, yet it did not need me.
Tied to the pavement from October to December, waves constantly to-and-fro regardless if I remember.
How can you forget its ominous presence, it's easy I say, among the city's fake decadence.
I sink and I float, hour passes hour there's nothing like the sea not even a long shower.
Every year it's important to swim, among the fishes and creatures, that lurk within.
For when you forget about the small fish, that's when the sea will consider you its next dish.
So I dip my toe into its waves, and try to stay humble, try not to parade, this small sense of strength, I feel I possess, because the sea simply laughs, it's not often impressed.
I miss the waves lapping, breaking gently ashore, a sound worth listening to, a noise anyone can afford. For the sea remains free, away from man's rule, no colours or guidelines, like the local pool.
When I next return to the deep blue sea, I will remember it, I just hope it remembers me.
A banana flavoured shoe Would be an odd thing make. Next thing you know there'd be a shoe-favoured cake.
Banana-shaped and yellow for the most quirky of fellows, To lace them up around their feet, The air around them would smell so sweet.
If you're a fan of yellow fruit, and want to swap out your pair of old boots, then by all means you should cop when all the big brands next drop a banana-themed and flavoured shoe to show your friends who haven't a clue that you really know what's hip and cool Or that you're not a wannabe fool So give these yellow trainers a feel Don't let them convince you it's just the peel, Because if you listen to what they say You'll only wear them for the day And in the compost they will go, Biodegrading, losing their glow, Cause they actually had great sex appeal, Those shoes that looked like banana peel.
I stop in Trujillo every time I touchdown in the country. Luckily for me, the City of Trujillo is known as the capital of footwear in Peru. Now, added to that list of places to visit is the footwear district of El Porvenir, which I visited for the first time during my 2024 trip.
An old man carting a selection of shoe laces was what first greeted us as we approached the outside of the district. 2 sets for 5 Solles which in hindsight was a rip off but hey hoe.
Heading from the hotel, we were told to keep our guard up when walking around the manufacturing district in EL Porvenir. This is due to many thieves and armed criminals in the area, a situation which only worsened because of the economic drought the province suffered during Covid. Interestingly enough, on one of our rides back from the footwear district, the taxi driver informed us that there was a daylight shooting in one of the fanciest areas of Trujillo, proving you can never be too careful. Luckily for us, our ventures to the district were all glowingly positive.
From craftsmen who had worked in the district for over thirty years to ladies who sold footwear components in bulk, you could find each stage of the process. Large sheets of leather all rolled up next to one another would eventually become the uppers of smart shoes worn by the older Peruvian man, a model that seemed to forgo the typical decadence of the European Brogue.
swathes of leather held together at the Peruvian footwear district
An elderly lady sorting bundles of loose laces stands under a selection of tongue labels from all the most popular brands. She had likely been surrounded by footwear long before I was born, a humbling thought for any shoe dog out there. That said, I don’t think she was lost in thought over any pending eBay bids or going through her mental checklist of ‘grails’, that sort of thing did not hold weight around her stall.
Peruvian Lady working her stall at El Provinar Trujillo
Much of the equipment allowed for repairs or alterations such as the pair of knockoff “AAICS” shoes that were being widened for a customer, as the average Peruvian tends to have a wider foot. Here the machine would introduce a wider metal last to slowly stretch the forefoot portion of the upper and create extra room in the toebox. This was a natural part of the process with no sight of #sustainability posters stuck to the walls. Getting the most out of your resources was just simple logic.
The pair of knock-off ASICS that were midway through the ‘widening’ process
Laces, dubraes and buckles were also available by the bulk load, each vendor willing to bargain with you depending on the size of your order. My Mum picked up 10 sets of flat laces to go with her favourite New Balances, this only set her back 20 Solles or £4.
I on the other hand managed to pick up a small bundle of Nike lace dubraes for less than 50p, a harrowing reminder of how much brands truly overcharge for footwear in the UK. Sure shipping and marketing costs add to the overall retail price tag, however sneakerheads who are easily blown away by extra detailing and packaging would be surprised at the pence per unit difference that these manufacturing costs would actually make. Two extra sets of laces are always an appreciated touch, costing the brand perhaps 10p in addition but a detail that during the video review stage could help tip customers over the edge.
assortment of dubrae bundles to jazz up your laces with
For a minute I thought about going full fugazi on my recently purchased Nike PS8s by adding an extravagant Lacoste or Barbie dubrae but refrained, opting for a simple set of Nike ones instead.
Pair of knock-off Air Force 1s in “Triple Black” – if you buy these there is a high likelihood that they will manifest crud into your life.
Midsoles were available by the bulk, including the Predator or Air Force 1 option shown in-hand. Did I want a set of murdered-out AF1 midsoles to take back to the UK? Yes, of course I did. Although that would have been a completely unnecessary purchase, not even bothering to ask what the cost price was.
I approached a gentleman cutting off the excess outsole with a sharp blade, all the while making sure not to capture his face in the photo so as to respect his privacy. This did not sit well with him as he wanted his moment in the spotlight, a form of recognition for surely was a line of work he had spent decades in.
Cobbler manning the welt stitching machine
Another man around the corner was operating what he told me was a welt stitching machine that had been running since the ‘80s. Punching a needle between the leather midsole and upper, he continued to produce a set of light tan work shoes that would find their way onto the feet of the businessmen of Trujillo.
I had only seen this level of workmanship in YouTube videos or briefly caught the process at my local Thimpsons. Seeing it at the heart of the manufacturing district of El Provinar was a different feeling altogether. A behind-the-scenes look at the creation process of the shoe, an object that continues to captivate my everyday life.
Often romanticised by the industry via New Balance Made in UK campaigns of adidas’ Made in Germany editions, there was just as much experience and knowledge held within the hands of those who worked at El Porvenir. Of course, without the marketing budget and expensive film crew, these stories will continue to go unheard.
One of the many side entrances of the Footwear District in Trujillo, Peru
My second visit to the district was a few weeks later. I would return hoping to find an elderly lady called Rosa who was the only person able to make a Last for me. The other vendors would all point towards the direction of her shop, each wild goose chase leaving me empty-handed.
“She should be here in the next hour”
“Oh Rosa starts after lunchtime”
“She only works weekends now”
These were the various replies we were told by those who worked there, all of which repeatedly led towards Rosa’s blue shop shutters. While the area was full of skilled workers, she was the only person left who was able to make a custom wooden last. The plastic lasts were widely available for purchase but I only had my eyes set on the traditional wooden ones.
This vendor was a one-stop-shop for anything midsoles
They would make me feel like a man from the 19th century who had just carted in from the countryside into the bustling city. Wearing a waistcoat and top hat, I would stroll into the cobblers ready to collect my new leather shoes for a friend’s wedding so I could look the part. Yet in reality, I would get the train to Slough where I would turn up in my second-hand Balley Loafers which might be made in France but are also in dire need of re-welting (a tangent but a necessary one).
While you can get a wooden Last made in England, these will run you back an eye-watering amount. For example, John Lobb is a centuries-old bootmaker shop in London that provides this service. This age-old reputation does come with a high price tag, so unless you have a budget of £5000, you can put those dreams on pause.
I am sure the shop gains custom for many a wealthy banker and financial director, but my shoe-writing budget has a way to go before it can stretch that far. I am not complaining though, as each cobbler spends on average 2-4 days per shoe, with the more skilled ones creating up to 5 shoes per week. Calculating the manhours behind each pair and the rarity of those skills in today’s world, the price is sadly justified.
In one last attempt, I stumbled across one of the older-looking shops. A stack of wooden Lasts across his shelves gave me a slither of hope, an episode of Top Cat playing from his old box Television.
The shop with the wooden Lasts for sale
“Ahh no sorry, I don’t make them. You can purchase one of these though, I’ve got a size 8 you can buy”, Close but no cigar. They also weighed a tonne and space in my return luggage was getting smaller by the day.
I left the district with no wooden Last. That is not to say the time was wasted, as each minute witnessing the manufacturing process was time well spent. It is hard to tell if I would return to the district during future trips, with the mysterious character of Rosa all but lost to the magic of El Provinar (I wouldn’t even know how much she would have charged me either as a UK12 is almost unheard of within that space). Perhaps they will tell her Bigfoot was looking for her, although I would be surprised if I had done enough to earn that reputation.
A pair of Fisherman Sandals I managed to grab in Trujillo called “Palermo”
If you are in Trujillo and love shoes, then I would say it is worth visiting El Provinar provided you are not going alone. Also, do not take your phone out too much and hide valuable items like your watch or chain. Otherwise, enjoy the behind-the-scenes process and maybe pick up some laces or lace dubraes while there!
wear shoes, write poems 