State of Sneakers: 10 Things We Learned This Week

When did 'sneakerhead' become a bad word? It would be interesting to trace the word all the way back to its inception, although that's another task for another week. What's become abuntantly clear, however, is that hardly anyone wants to be tagged with it. To a degree this is understandable, as the word has been weighted down with all sorts of negative connotations. On the other hand, it's generally not intended to be an insult, and should rarely be taken as one. At least not as often as it evidently is. It's up to you, the sneakerhead, to take the word back. Make it your own. Maybe someone should start a blog? It worked for Hypebeast.

Asking someone who's into sneakers about what they collect strikes many people as a loaded question. "Collect? I don't collect. I wear what I buy!" Which is fine, and a perfectly legitimate response. Here's the thing, though. Most people only have one set of feet, which means wearing just one pair a day. And if you have 400-plus pairs — which many of our veteran respondants do — that means you won't even be able to wear each pair once over the course of a year. And that's assuming you wear a different pair every single day, which hardly anyone does. Believe it or not, it's possible to wear everything you buy (eventually) AND be a collector. There's nothing wrong with that.

A popular recollection amongst many sneaker aficionados is the second wave of Air Jordan retros. They were $100, and it was possible to just walk into a Foot Locker or Foot Action and come away with a pair, even a day (or a week) after the initial drop. That was in 1999, which, if our math is correct, was 14 years ago. Which means there's an entire generation of sneaker fans who missed out. Not that you'd know from talking to them. Plenty of people talk about how things were better "back in the day," even if they themselves weren't around to see it. Which, come to think of it, must be why a sneaker from 1988 is the favorite of a lot of '90s babies.

There is the occasional paradox in the wishes of sneaker fans. They seem to want fewer releases that are produced in greater numbers — all the better for improved chances at copping — but don't want to be seen as wearing the same sneakers as everyone else. Which leads us to conclude when they ask for people to wear more variety and "what they really like," they're talking about those OTHER people. Er, whoever they are.

This is how a sneaker collection — oops, stash, excuse me — works. It starts small, and possibly with buying anything and everything. It then takes over a closet, then a bedroom, then maybe a basement or garage. Then maybe it moves into a storage unit. And, at some point, it gets unmanageable. There are sneakers at the bottom of stacks that haven't seen daylight in years. At this point, most people purge, whether it be by selling, giving away, or donating. Which is perfectly fine. Of course others find they just can't do it. Which is OK, too.

We already knew the numbers for 2012, but it's still fairly surprising to hear people talk about the most they've spent on a pair of sneakers, or how many pairs they actually have. How relatively commonplace it is for someone to have 500 pairs of sneakers, or to have spent a four-figure sum on a single pair. We've come a long way from two new pairs a year and mom's strictly imposed $75 budget.

The list of the best sneaker cities in the world features more non-U.S. cities than it ever would have before, and, judging from the comments, it could have included even more. The sneaker industry itself was global from the start, it only makes sense that the sneaker community would follow suit. With more and more cities in more and more countries getting world-class boutiques, who in turn produce highly sought-after collabs, this trend will only continue. It's only a matter of time until the U.S. represents a minority of the best sneaker cities in the world - which will be a good thing.

Read between the lines of what people are saying, and a lot of criticisms seem to focus on Jordan retros. Those ambiguous "quality" complaints, or calls for greater production numbers — those aren't about the latest Mizuno runner. For many, "sneakers" is synonymous with "Air Jordans." Which is somewhat remarkable seeing that Mike hasn't played at all since 2003 and last suited up for the Bulls 15 years ago. Hell, those highlights aren't even in HD. Any doubts as to Mike's post-retirement status should have been laid to rest long ago. This cements it.

It's funny, but it seems that the internet — which should represent the ultimate in shopping convenience — has caused frustrated would-be consumers to fondly reminisce on the days of all-night campouts and hype-free shopping at mall sneaker stores. To be fair, everyone should have seen this coming. Combine lower and lower production numbers of more and more hyped shoes with a larger and larger pool of potential customers and the only result can be a greater number of people who miss out — often losing out to those who find a way to game the system. It seems that people are willing to accept the former as long as there's a way to eliminate the latter.

Look back at the initial survey, or even the roundup of industry heads: nearly everyone admits to having sold a pair of sneakers (at least) at some point. Yet all take pains to point out that they're not re-sellers, that they sell only to friends at retail, or to make money for some specific need, or to make space for more sneakers. It's true that this is different than buying a full size run of some limited release in hopes of making a profit — but it's really just a matter of degree.