All images taken on the Sony Ericsson Cybershot (2007)
It had been over two years since I had stepped back in Bristol so a return was long overdue. Meeting friends from Uni like nothing had changed. The Pizza at Pizzarova was still incredible, the nights out on Park Street were still questionable and the bus services still ran like clockwork. Deciding to go last minute, I arrived at Temple Meads quite late. The FA cup final was on so Pubs were full to the Brim with lads holding a pint by their stomach. I had forgotten the frequency of Hareem pants dashing about the place and the presence of the West Country accent that had previously faded into the background. I picked up a bottle of wine for the evening which turned out to be suprisingly good. Having forgotten about the extortionate entry fees at Lola Lo’s, an establishment I no longer frequent, given the choice is up to me but alas we eneded up at club that was playing regaetton music. Later on that night we found ourselves in The Woods. Now I don’t mean an area with a dense population of trees, yet a pub on a side street full of the strange lurkers of the night. However you could hardly be suprised given the fact that it was past 4:30am and all the civilised people were tucked up in bed by this point. I sat there on a bar stool drinking a glass of water listening to the DJ blast out Drum and Bass father at 5am … “I should be asleep” is all I thought, taking another sip of tepid tap water. We eventually got back at 7am where I hit the sofa and immidiately focused on getting some low-quality alcohol fuelled sleep.
A great time in Bristol which made it seem like I had never left. Next time perhaps a sit down by Harbourside with some apple juice might do the trick instead.
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.
I remember really wanting a pair of Paul Rodriquez’s 8th Nike shoe. That was back in 2014 when I was rocking the Koston 2’s. A staple in my college shoe rotation. My black pair with the gum bottom truly got mashed up. I remember seeing the 8’s on skate websites and loving the silhouette. They were sleek and techy. The upper was something off a football boot and coupled with the ridges of the Lunarlon midsole, they just looked sharp! Not to mention the sole itself which had a heat map of your feet’s pressure points. I was sold. The blue and black colourway was the first to come out which I wasn’t too keen on. I had to bide my time for the right colourway to come about which it did, the Shield edition.
The orange hits with the 3M detailing, it was me all over. I waited and waited for a UK12 to go on sale but alas, I never found a pair. I eventually settled for the “Blackout” pair. It was simple but I was mainly in love with the design, so I wasn’t too bothered. I found a pair on a skate website going for about £75 which given the over £120 price point, wasn’t too shabby.
They arrived and went straight on feet. I was moving to Bristol soon for university later that year and they were coming with me. Whilst I loved the look of them on-feet, I struggled fitting them with my then – trouser situation. In 2015 I was donning the finest Zara jeans that weren’t spray on skinny by any means but weren’t baggy either. The cheeky Nando’s vibes were certainly a lot stronger back then, that’s for sure. Having big feet also meant that trousers would certainly make a difference in creating a smaller looking shoe. Nevertheless, they got their fair share of wear (that rhymes) because of their simple colourway.
It was fresher’s week (lads, lads, lads) and there was an 80’s themed dress night at a club down the road. The club was fairly – big so a large portion of potential future Uni mates would be there. I struggled finding an outfit at first, finally settling on my classic blue Zara jeans, a Puma top that I had bought for the gym and my P-Rod’s. The top was a dark blue with a neon-pink Puma logo which I clearly thought, “yeah, 80s that”. Just in case my outfit legitimacy was questioned, I rolled up my trousers to reveal my white Nike tube socks. I was unquestionably 80’s at that point, the night was mine.
We arrived at the club after a 45 second walk. It was busy and the queue was large. I made it to the front where I remember the bouncer giving me a strange look. I thought he was eyeing me up as a potential aggressive youth, a troublemaker, so I just smiled when he handed back my ID. In hindsight, I should have taken that as a signal to go home and save my nostalgic outfit for another night. Alas, I continued on into the depths of the club.
Hire SWX Bristol – Eventopedia – Events Bristol
The people I was with hit the dancefloor. It was chart music galore. “Where was the 80s hits” I thought? It was then that I learnt that these Club night dress codes were a big sham, the naivety of my 18-year-old self. The group I was with formed a circle right at the front and started busting out their finest moves. I was cringing. This was not my thing. “I’m too cool for this”, I said to myself, neon-pink puma logo beaming from my chest. As the hours went on, there was luckily a decrease in the number of dance-off circles formed.
The end of the night was near and there weren’t as many people about. I had spotted a girl I recognised from a few towns over. She was dancing with her mate. Noticing I was getting a few glances, I slowly made my way over. There was a small space between the two groups now. I just needed to wait for the right moment. As I was closer, my outfit was consequently more visible. She glanced up and down, scanned the puma top and kept going. The top hadn’t put her off, so surely I had a chance. It was at that point that she noticed the combination of my white Nike socks and my all-black P-Rod’s. Her eyes stayed there for a few seconds. “ohh yeah, she knows her crep’s, lets go” I thought. I was wrong. Completely wrong. I’m not sure I recognised her facial expression, but I knew it wasn’t a good sign. Thinking back, it was somewhere between a grimace and a smirk. Seconds after she pulled that face, she whispered something to her mate and they both walked off. That was it. I had been pied. Never a fun moment for a man but it’s even worse when she’s put off by your shoes. It’s even more of a sour feeling when you consider yourself a sneaker head. After that night I stopped wearing the P-Rod’s for quite some time. They had betrayed me.
Granted they need a clean.
Since the summer of 2016, they have in fact been sat at the bottom of my cupboard. 6 years of imprisonment because of one failure. A harsh punishment, but apparently the price a shoe must pay for letting their wearer down. I can now say, as I am wearing the actual pair right now, that I have moved on. My P Rod’s and I are ready to take on a whole host of new outfits this year. I have made peace with the memory and the crep’s themselves. Life moves on.
Upon finishing this story, I just remembered another tale where my crush laughed at my P-Rod 7’s on mufti day, perhaps I should stay clear after all…
wear shoes, write poems 