Animated figures tend to stick with a strict uniform, never straying from a selected outfit despite the outlandish circumstances defining their creation. People across the globe immediately recognize Mickey Mouse’s gloves, Buzz Lightyear’s spacesuit and Mr. Incredible’s Edna Mode costume. Although not real, these characters and items embody emotional characteristics inseparable from the owner. John Lasseter, Pixar co-founder and former CCO of Disney Animation/Pixar is intimately connected to these figures and countless others across the Disney-Pixar universe. Similar to his creations, Lasseter dons an unmistakable uniform deeply embedded in his ethos – Hawaiian shirts. His floral regalia may not be as high tech as Buzz’s suit or indestructible like Edna Mode’s tailoring marvel, but it acts as Lasseter’s distinct trademark. Since his unrivaled success in the animation industry, he ensures a brightly-patterned shirt accompanies him in every facet of life. Lasseter comes equipped for every possible scenario including sporting events, holidays, red carpet premieres or upper-echelon award ceremonies. (The one for the Venice Film Festival is ungodly.) With over 1,000 options and an active rotation nearing 400 shirts, the man rivals any archive collector or celebrity clothing enthusiast. Yes, he keeps some in storage units. A 2011 YouTube video provides an extremely in depth look inside Lasseter’s obsession. As anyone would logically assume, the man’s massive walk-in closet is a sight itself. It’s not quite Kardashian level, but he wood-covered beast puts middle-aged executive to shame in terms of quantity and taste. Lasseter seems ecstatic while guiding viewers through the subject-specific compartments. His collection didn’t grow accidentally and he is acutely aware of every shirt in rotation and its role. For his birthday, he received a custom shirt adorned with personal motifs related to major life events from his wife. That’s a whole different level. Custom one-offs approach haute couture ideology. I appreciate that a grown man favors personalized florals over a traditional suit or tuxedo. Lasseter’s heightened love affair with rare, customized pieces began in 1999 surrounding Toy Story 2’s release. According to a Disney fandom blog, Lasseter worked with Reyn Spooner for the initial creation and the subsequent iterations for each Pixar film. The series spans across all Pixar and Disney-Pixar movies with unreal corresponding collaborations for the award-winning projects. Beyond the eye-catching patterns, Disney-Pixar and Reyn Spooner both maintain a symbiotic relationship that mixes cool and nerdy. The abrasive clothing can easily transform from silk iterations in Scarface to overweight fathers relaxing on a coastal vacation. Disney-Pixar maintains an incalculable fan base ranging from average moviegoer to overly obsessed, awkwardly-aged fanatic. Both companies do a certain thing extremely well and produce legendary products. The collaborative cross-pollination between two premier brands makes sense. Lasseter’s collection was displayed during the 2015 D23 expo, giving fans an unprecedented look at the collaborative efforts and an option to purchase related products. Disney freaks crave the shirts. I found countless blogs and forums discussing potential stockists and similar alternatives to Lasseter’s pieces. In accordance with other desirable memorabilia, the co-branded Reyn Spooner shirts fetch hundreds of dollars on eBay, and most have active bidders jockeying for the highest price. During Steve Jobs’ world-altering relationship with Pixar, he was wearing his iconic uniform – jeans, gray New Balances and a black Issey Miyake turtleneck. His pared-down outfit aligned seamlessly blended with Apple’s sleek, simplistic products and branding. Although slightly more erratic than Jobs’ choices, Lasseter’s Hawaiian shirts match his bright, playful, bold creations perfectly.
0 Comments
When selecting sneakers for the ensuing day, a quick scan of my closet provides me a variety of options with most designs dating before my birth. I have jackets, shirts, and pant with modern styling and recent release dates, but my footwear could be transported into 1999 with no pair misplaced. Although the theoretical time travel wouldn’t lack accuracy, very few models were actually produced before the mid 2000s despite the attached moniker. Upon internal tag inspection, my Air Max 95s entered this planet a decade ago, and the 1997 Talarias entered my closet in 2015. The Air Woven, immensely popular in the early 2000s, were introduced in a new multi-colored version and acquired last summer. Everyone knows all these shoes, including my 60-year-old mother, fall into the retro sneaker category. The items originate in the past, but re-release on a daily basis. I can’t accurately describe the category as an obsession or fascination. For years vintage shoes models in new and original colorways constantly float into stores and fly off shelves. It would be nearly impossible to find a sneaker fan without a retro pair in rotation. Every brand, from Jordan to Mizuno consistently releases models from decades ago to a consumer base eagerly awaiting consumption. Personally after years of acquiring these historic shoes, my interest is finally starting to fade. I still harbor a vibrant passion for interesting footwear options, but the never-ending influx of 90’s runners causes me to seek my thrills elsewhere. But, I hold no grudge toward Nike-the vast majority of my collection-and the other companies for the practice. It makes too much sense businesswise and despite the enormous cultural phenomenon, these are companies seeking profits and satisfied stakeholders. Although Nike reissues runners like the Air Max 180 and 97 countless times pre-2015, the past few years have resulted in an absolute onslaught. The recent extortion undoubtedly links to the dad shoe-embarrassed to type that term out-and the cultural obsession with models featuring technical materials and overtly athletic capabilities. The floodgates opened for chunky runners with no foreseeable end date. The lust for vintage clothing extends far past footwear and the mash up of clothing from distant decades is a now a standard style identity. Initially, old items appear fresh, exciting and foreign, but my wide-eyed outlook toward these items lessened as certain pairs get beat to death with 50 colorways over a two-month span. (Everyone knows what happened to the Huarache.) A person could strictly wear shoes from the past 30 years and the word “outdated” couldn’t be accurately applied. This sentiment is not unique to me, and numerous fans despise the inevitable overkill. Personally, I think the “retro” phrase evolved into a misleading category type. Countless models receive more colorways and reworks within a two-year period than the decade surrounding the original release. The “silver bullet” Air Max 97 is now compromised of corduroy, suede and other bizarre combinations miles from the original. Not a negative, but definitely interesting. Despite my seemingly dismal outlook, I wholeheartedly love when companies reintroduce certain pairs. I tend to gravitate toward the obscure shoes buried beneath some of the popular options, because they tend to be more exciting with justifiable purchase rationale-a cringe worthy sentence but the truth. Reebok’s Beatnik and Nike’s Chalapuka (not technically the original Chapuka) provide prime opportunities to capture elusive models with originals being unwearable or impossible to locate. The “fashion” sneaker collaboration can easily veer into tacky Instagram influencer territory, but the Comme des Garçons x Nike Presto Foot Tent featured in the Spring/Summer 2019 showcaused my heart to jump despite the nearly $300 price tag. It’s such an odd, perfectly hideous object that could only enter my closet through a re-release or intense, yearlong eBay adventure. (I secured an immaculate pair of 2002 Presto Gyms a few years back.) My hypocrisy toward retros is evident from the long list of models I hope to see that goes far beyond the CdG monstrosities. But, I’m not losing sleep over another 90’s Air Max runner. My hope and wishes go toward some real weird possibilities. The Storm Beacon, Air Max Willy (not a runner), Air Visi Mazy (In men’s sizes), and Silverfish-the shoes worn by Morgan Freeman’s interpretation of God-vie for my top position. Although not prime candidates due to the current style climate and consumer interests, I would never dismiss a future release as trends evolve. Hopefully the trail shoe trend eventually pushes brands to pull some real nonsense out. (Salomon regularly collaborates with a Parisian boutique/café, what limits are truly left?) Upon deep self-reflection and meaningful internal analysis, I feel my retro exodus stems from boredom and a feeling of missing out. Recently, new models have really impressed me. It’s exciting and refreshing witnessing shoe technology expand and leading to crazy executions. Naturally, these recent successes interest me more than an Air Max introduced over 20 years ago. Eliud Kipchoge is insanely close to completing a marathon in less than two hours, and I currently have the ability to purchase shoes featuring similar technology and aesthetics. (All the ZoomX work is top notch and continues to get better.) I would much rather purchase that than another lame, overreaching story packaged into a Jordan 1 colorway.
The retro landscape morphed into a necessary evil. It’s not a dark, sinister plot; companies make shoes people want to purchase. But, it’s an unforgiving system with the ability to suffocate select models. New technology brings refreshing energy and renewed interest that retros rarely achieve, but I can rattle off 50 exceptions. If it’s a good shoe, make it. |
AuthorMax Theriot Archives
November 2019
Categories |