When it comes to shoes, I’m no sneakerhead. I have shoes for the gym, shoes for skateboarding, and the casual ones that I wear just about everywhere. I guess, if anything, a fresh new pair of Vans really butters-my-biscuit.
While I have a moderate obsession with buying a new pair to make me feel whole again, I’m no diehard. I can’t see myself paying more than $100 for shoes unless there’s a significant reason I should be. I have done so on a few occasions, recently buying the Nike Metcon 3’s specifically for power-lifting/training. With that being said, I simply can’t understand the obsession with Yeezy’s, the shoes by Kanye West, or the bloated price tag that comes along with the many Adidas shoes I saw at a recent tournament.
Over the years I’ve had the opportunity to attend the Game Developers Conference (GDC), IndieCade, and the Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3). Each share one thing in common: dress code. Err, or should I say, lack thereof.
For the most part, gaming conventions have a pretty lax dress code. Most people will wear damn near anything they feel comfortable in. The collective clothing mindset for these events seems to be, “It’s video games. Suits don’t belong here.” This is true, but when it comes to footwear, you better find something comfortable as there’s the possibility of being on your feet the entire day. So, comfort heavily becomes a top-of-the-mind awareness. The inner conflict that I’m having as to why there were so many Yeezy’s at a Call of Duty World League Championship, is that there wasn’t a need to walk great distances, nor were there any real reasons to be on your feet for extended periods of time. My only conclusion to this phenomenon was: cred.
Not to be confused with crud, debris or gunk that can build up in car engines or shoe bottoms, no. I’m talking about credit where credit is due. Street cred.
This show of legitimacy was running rampant around the Kay Hutchinson Convention Center during the CWL-Dallas tournament. It was so apparent that I wasn’t really all that dialed into the scene when I didn’t already have my G-Fuel shaker and a fresh pair of Yeezy’s to gloat my presence. Instead, my fallback choice of a comfy pair of Vans constantly reminded me that I was an outsider, only finding comradery with others who chose similar clothing options.
I guess, every scene has its unique style and representation of exactly what it means to be a part of it. I just hope I don’t step on anyone’s toes in writing this. Literally, I don’t want to be responsible for scuffin’ your $300+ pair of shoes.