#ysdn4105

So, I'm writing a thesis on the Air Jordan. (You must think my life is awesome because I managed to integrate such pop/urban culture topics in my theses.) The premise is to take a toy (or object, or plaything, or something of the like) and analyze it using the three methods of design analysis. (Or something like that—it's a mind-blowing class that defies everything I know about design.)

I'd also like to mention that I am not a sneakerhead, though I do have my fair share of sneakers. Ironically enough, I do have Jordans, but what do I know about them other than the fact that it's a staple in the urban culture that I affiliate myself with (oh capitalism, woe is me!).

Anyway, I'll be looking into the Air Jordan and its cultural redefinition over time. I'll be writing about its production value and purpose from the 80s as a basketball shoe to now, post-MJ era, where people regard it as a collectible, lining up, spending hundreds, and even killing for these sneakers.

I mean, yeah, it still serves as a basketball shoe today, but there are times when I'm with my boys and even they question the validity of a basketball shoe. My boyfriend's bedroom is beginning to smell like a stock room because of the amount of shoes he's got stacked up (albeit, he does have specific basketball shoes and then his "holy grails" that he would, under no circumstance, use on the court). One homie wears Jordans on the court just to piss off sneakerheads, but also reminding us all that their sole (hahahaha i'm so punny) purpose is to be a basketball shoe. I can sympathize with some of the other guys in the gym as they question why a "beautiful" shoe like x should not be used on the court, so as not to scuff and damage them. 

As I read through some of these books and papers, sneakers seem to be more than just sneakers, but rather a means of identity and self-worth. To have these shoes—and to have them first—meant that you were a trendsetter, that you were cool. What I found most interesting was the fact that Air Jordans were specifically marketed to inner-city kids for lifestyle reasons and to wear them as a badge of status and self-validation (which is parallel to the mindset of hip hop culture—identity, validation, street cred, etc). It was also a marketing tactic that played on social class, in that whatever products urban consumers identified and stamped as cool would be adopted wholesale by suburban kids.

This whole thing brought me back to when I was around 10. It was my first year on the basketball team and my older brother took me out to buy a pair of ball shoes. I desperately wanted Nikes—and I can't even remember why or how that need came about—but I knew we didn't have the means to buy them. My brother took me to every athletic store in the area and I rejected every single one because I just wanted the Nikes. As the stores began closing for the day, I had no other choice than to try my luck at Payless (where they had those stupid And1 or Shaq shoes) or Winners (where I eventually got fucking Master P ball shoes. MASTER P like...) I resented ever buying those shoes because they simply weren't Nikes. I was 10! How was I supposed to know how important Nikes were? I bought those Master P shoes because they were the closest thing to looking like Jordans, but they felt nothing like it. (The year after, I bought black Iverson sneakers that took me well into the 8th grade before I switched to Reebok THEN eventually switching to Jordans when I got my first job.)