(See what we did there? Like the love child of ‘Got milk’ and ‘You’ve been tangoed’)
Laura Reynolds looks at the hype surrounding the collaboration.
Just a week to go until the man in red arrives...
But as I was walking through the busy streets of Barcelona one day, I saw the two most stylish people ever (imagine Italian-Brazilians in New York doing Boho) and a week later my friend from North London, who was at that time to fashion what I was to rap music, shows up wearing ankle-high , bright red All Stars. Now, I’d never been one to question his style but we were clearly on the same page, for he turned to me immediately and said ‘they’re in’.
I knew what I had to do, but there was a hitch. My last three trainers had been the very stylish and individual I3s by Reebok, silver and red running trainers by Adidas, and gold R9s by Nike. Clearly blue, black, or white would not cut it. After carefully inspecting the Converse laden shelves of my local department store for what seemed like, and probably was, an hour I saw them. Chuck Taylor ’73 embroidered on one side, beige with a red stripe and very one of a kind. I was in luck, they had one pair of size 11s left and they were purchased within minutes.
First thing I learnt: if you have them, flaunt them. It was months before I wore them with anything other than shorts and they looked great too. I could wear them for skateboarding, for basketball; I even wore them for football, something for which they never forgave me. Secondly, I learnt how fast two boys, one from North London and the other from Manchester, can set a trend.
Within weeks they were everywhere; yellow, black on black, mod, it was crazy. Even the Vans wearers had switched to the star and stripe version. Seeing how big this was getting I decided I needed more. In a conversation with my old man, who is always game for a challenge, I suggested pink ankle highs to him and we proceeded to spend the rest of the day trawling through a seaside town looking for size 11s. They proved highly elusive so I had to make do with lime green fakes.
There will be people out there, I am sure, who have never tried fake Converse, just as there are people who have never owned All Stars. This was in the early stage of imitations and they remained stiff till the last, scratching at my heels and preventing what footballing skills I had. They were a cracking colour though.
It wasn’t long after this that I purchased my first Lo-Rise pair. I was amused at this time, as all 15-year-old boys surely are, with US-bashing cartoon satire. And it just so happened that I was in a department store with my dear mum and I saw an American flag with simian heads printed on the side. They also happened to be the cheapest footwear I have ever owned and survived almost a year until an ill-fated dining hall ratatouille incident.
By this point the original Chuck Taylor’s were looking worse, much worse, than when they were purchased. Despite still smelling as rubber-fresh as the day they were purchased, I could stick my toes out of the end of them. My 16th birthday was fast approaching but with three pairs of Converse to my name (some fake) I had no reason to expect anything.
Birthday morning, 9am, I am given a bag with a long box inside and told to open it in the living room. In no state for thinking I make my way down the hall and I open the box to find the most glorious sight ever seen. In a moment straight out of Pulp Fiction my face is illuminated by size 11 Pink Converse. Don’t ask how, don’t ask where.
Since that day, in fashion hubs throughout Western Europe I have only ever seen one other male wearing them. In our supremacy we shared the understanding nod of eidetic solidarity. I wore them proudly with shorts through to late October. The wettest rains, the muddiest fields, and the sandiest beaches all knew my pink converse. They have seen Pete Doherty, performed Last Nite and have kissed girls from at least 3 different countries.
But just as every dog has its day, machine-washable fabric doesn’t last forever. Alongside a pair of box-shiny gold diesel imitations they have been my sole Converse for the past three years and would have remained so if not for an unfortunate sun-kissed spring morning.
As I was walking to campus and looking quite good in jeans, a t-shirt, and pink converse I happened to pass two very pretty girls on Spring Lane. I met with head appeal, torso passed with flying colours, legs never let me down. But as their gaze neared the ground I crashed out, not one to be outdone I kept my chin up and got on with the day.
The incident though, weighed heavy on my conscience, and it took me a couple of months but I finally stepped into Office and I found them: my first official lo-rise All Stars, in purple and grey. And as every good Converse-clad showman should, I took them to Manchester for audition where they passed with flying colours and thus a new epic began.
Some say that Rock n Roll can save the world; others have faith in science or religion. All I know is had it not been for the rubber-soled dream of a basketball player some 92 years ago, mine and many other lives would have been very different.
Ah yes, but where do you get size 13/14 Converse in York I ask? And where do you get them in any other colour than blue, black or red anywhere ever!?
With regards to the colours I can't speak more highly of Office but as for size a mate of mine recently had a similar problem and had to go online, which also gives you the option of customizing (something to do while writing an essay)
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