(1/?) 1994-2005: Let's talk conventionally about sneaker conventions.
In the beginning: 1991-2005...
For a long time now, social media has convinced me that sneaker conventions just ‘aren’t for me’. And with good reason: almost any video I see involves some sort of content creator going for some kind of shock value in hopes of garnering some kind of second-nature(d) digital reaction.
‘Let’s ask the everyman what his favorite shoe is…’
‘Let’s ask the everyman what his least favorite shoe is…’
‘Let’s talk about money and sneakers…’
‘Let’s make someone look like a fool…’
‘Let’s make someone look like they’re so cool for owning this or that…’
‘Let’s host a little ‘quiz’…’
This type of content, IMO, is what I call ‘lowest common denominator content’. It’s the type of content that nearly anyone with a quarter of a brain can be (somewhat) entertained by. It’s not highbrow…but is it lowbrow? I dunno…I don’t know if I’m really in a position to judge. I do think it’s naturally engaging, though, so feel a sense of shame whenever I catch myself looking a bit too long.
All that to say…the (social) media around these events definitely has me feeling some type of way. Is the goal to alienate people or to bring more people into the fold?
It’s kind of a strange thing when your life is so consumed with a product that you actually feel out of place around others who share an interest in it…especially when the media around the event makes it seem like it’s THE PLACE TO BE. If I were really a person who was really into God, wouldn’t I want to spend some time fellowshipping with other people who are into God? Isn’t that how that’s supposed to go? Being that brands really feel like a religion, I don’t know if the metaphor is that far off the mark…
For me, It wasn’t always this way...I been a ‘collector’ for most of my life. Besides GI Joes and He-Man, my first love of collecting was Baseball Cards. When I was a kid, I remember reading about Baseball Card conventions in Beckett Magazine and always wanting to go to one…‘hm, what would one of those be like?’
There’s an insert card in 1ToStock’s ‘Dunky Dunks 2’ set coming out that gives a little story of my experience with Dinosaur Jr. (the Dinosaur Jr. Dunk’s being the impetus for the story)…and…basically, I explain how, when my parents split up in the early 90’s, my dad and I went on a road trip through Northern California in order to bond. We listened to a great deal of Dramarama, Pixies, and Dinosaur Jr. in his 1972 VW Super Beetle. We bounced from hotel to campsite around the Northern California coast, and eventually ended up in San Francisco at one point; where, coincidentally, there happened to be two baseball shows going on: one was a small little gathering over at the Best Western on Van Ness, and the other was this massive trade show going on at the Moscone Convention center.
The one at the Best Western…I remember just a few things about it:
it was in a small room, and it didn’t look like the place a massive card show would be. but it was hectic and it was packed.
I spent my only $7 on two cards from a man who looked like he had some physical disabilities and wasn’t able to speak clearly. But. I didn’t really want the cards, I just felt a great deal of pity for him. One of the cards was a Kevin Maas rookie card that was pretty thrashed.
The one at Moscone, though, that one was a different thing entirely. I don’t think I had any money, but what was cool was that they gave us a big fat bag full of promo swag when we walked through the door. There were ‘Classic’ sheets with Rocket Ismail, there were a bunch of Trot Nixon promo cards, a bunch of Cheerleader cards, some Joe Montana stuff and a few other odds and ends. I kept the contents of that promo bag for more than 20 years thinking that I was going to sell it for millions of dollars when I got older, but when I searched it up a couple of years ago, it wasn’t even bother listing. Mr. promo-bag-that-I’ve-held-onto-for-25+-years: welcome to my garbage can. The funny part about the one at Moscone - I don’t even remember what it looked like. I don’t remember *anything about it. I remember driving around in circles looking for a parking spot…I remember the bag of promo goods…and that’s really it. So much for ‘memories’.
I went to a handful of card shows at Park Lane Mall in Reno, Nevada growing up…but nothing really sticks out in my mind from any of those…
Now, the flood of product and the subsequent collapse of the sports cards and collectibles market around 1995 or so had me looking elsewhere. I sold my whole collection to the rich kid down the street for an unheard of $300 and ended up opening my first bank account. I started focusing on other things to obsess over…primarily rap CDs and my newfound interest in sneakers…but it would be almost another decade yet before I could justify my obsession with sneakers (with a regular paycheck)…
I don’t need to go into the mechanics of what happened, but I always thought I was kind of a weirdo when I discovered I loved sneakers. Nobody…I mean NOBODY in Northern California (where I’m from) gave two shits about sneakers…I was constantly poked and prodded and clowned for my obsession and as a consequence, I kinda just kept it to myself. When I moved to New York in 2003, I was fascinated with my discovery of Niketalk that I began using THEIR statistics to justify the interest to friends and family: ‘You see, there are over 250,000 people on Niketalk!’ Because of Niketalk, I went to a few random meetups in the city and started hanging out with people who had similar interests. Danposite (RIP) and Solesupreme being the two I hung out with the most. We went to Niketown releases, sat in lines at Supreme, and really were just trying to chase down an elusive subculture. Which, in reality, wasn’t really organized by anything other than word of mouth.
My first sneaker ‘convention’ wasn’t really a convention. It was more like a group of 50-100 people at some rented space after hours on a Friday night. It was in the early 2000’s, and a friend of a friend was trying to get his clothing brand off the ground (‘Michael Burner’) and asked me to stop by to check it out. It was in a room that looked to be about 600 square feet on the second or third floor of some office building on Broadway right around Houston street. There were a few tables with sneakers, a few with clothes, one with drinks, and there was some terrible MC on stage trying to get people excited. It was more like an art gathering/cocktail party than anything else, but I distinctly remember it was a bunch of us just kinda waiting for something to happen and from my vantage point - nothing happened.
(Hey, ChatGPT, how do I end this column?):
“It’s hard to underscore how far the business of sneaker conventions has evolved against the juxtaposition of their humble beginnings. I’d be willing to bet that the first sneaker ‘convention’ I ever went to cost less to organize than it costs to set up a simple table at ComplexCon today…That being said, feel free to join me on a short journey through my time spent at these conventions and what I’ve felt, observed, and experienced…stay tuned for next weeks column!”
(Thanks, ChatGPT)