Since mankind spread across the planet, regional differences demanded varying garment types. A Native American hunting buffalo didn’t require the thick fur mantles favored by Nordic clans and African tribes found minimal clothing produced the most benefit in a sun-drenched climate. Despite the distinct variations present for generations, “western wear”, not 10-gallon hats and cowboy boots, infected the earth with Levi’s and sneakers available for purchase on every continent. But long before Saucony partnered with Dunkin' Donuts, footwear fulfilled the vital role of protecting wearers from environmental dangers. When traveling thousands of miles in freezing conditions, deerskins moccasins make the journey slightly more bearable. Besides the obvious technological leaps made since primitive leather shoes, access to a plethora of footwear options has completely altered longstanding norms. Regional limitations continue to decrease as communities gain access to the same products. Italians may love the Air Max 97, but it’s currently available at every mall across the United States, and nothing prohibits a Swedish girl from purchasing a pair of New York’s beloved Air Force 1. For a bevy of reasons beyond sneaker blogs, tastes are constantly intermixing and migrating to lands far away from their alleged origins. But, Asian countries still operate with some sense of individualism when purchasing footwear, with Japan standing out, of course. The country is inseparably linked to legendary collectors, revered brands, regional exclusives and an incomparable taste level that everyone seems to acknowledge as top tier. Japanese fans undoubtedly purchase styles popular in other nations, as Air Max and Boost leave no person untouched. However, their affinity for laceless models always intrigued me. Their stylistic choice are usually respected, but not always replicated, and the love for shoes without laces exemplifies the notion. I’ve always had an affinity for Air Wovens and Instapumps, but very rarely do I see similar models in the United States, and every other country fails in comparison to Japan. When searching for images on Instagram or other online sources, those living on the relatively small island nation dominate the results. Although it may seem trivial or coincidental, the interest stems beyond digital outfit pictures. When thinking of “traditional” Japanese dress, I feel most people reference silk kimonos followed by sandals with tabi socks. Geta, the elevated wooden platform sandals, prevented kimonos from dragging on the ground, and the split-toe design extends across several different traditional models with no laces. Margiela's Tabi Boot definitely brought the form an immense amount of worldwide attention since its 1988 debut, but Nike's own interpretation found success in the tabi's homeland. Nike released the Air Rift, a split-toe sneaker modeled after barefoot Kenyan runners, in 1996. Although the shoe stems from an Africa, Japanese enthusiasts fully embraced the seemingly modern take on tabi. The highly influential, moodboard-appropriate Harajuku scene in the early 2000s consistently featured stylish fans decked out in era-appropriate outfits finished with the unmistakable sneaker. It’s not a shocking revelation, but it’s extremely interesting how the culture wholeheartedly adopted a modern rendition of a style introduced centuries ago. Iridescent mesh and swoosh branding were lacking from historical pairs, but the dominant feature remained untouched. Hypebeast briefly explored Japan’s fondness for laceless options with a 2016 article examining the Instapump’s success in Asian markets. Steven Smith's design bears no resemblance to any traditional model and seems better suited for a universe-hopping astronaut. Nevertheless, the community fostered a deep attachment to the model after Jackie Chan lent his name to a neon green and grey rendition. (A pair released in 1997 commemorating China gaining sovereignty over Hong Kong from Great Britain – which I guess is a respectable move by a British brand.) I’m not 100 percent sure if Jackie Chan’s name is still important enough to credit all sales to him, but modern stars like South Korean actor Kim Soo-hyun wear the model and are extremely influential style sources throughout Asia. In conjunction with popular Asian brands like Beams, Bape, Atmos, X-Girl and Gundam , the shoe reached heights unmatched by other countries. (The Instapump looks incredibly like a mech’s foot) And if any further validation for the shoe’s importance is needed, Hiroshi Fujiwara says it’s the only Reebok shoe he has worn. With its multi-colored hues and deceptively simple construction, the Nike Air Woven remains in my top five favorites. The colorways alone warrant a gold medal, and even recent retros haven’t been butchered. Since the shoe’s initial Japan-only, release with Hiroshi Fujiwara-designed colors in 2000, the sneaker skyrocketed to stardom. In my mind, the shoe epitomizes hardcore, early 2000s Japanese shoe collecting. When I think obscure, lo-fi, early HTML sneaker websites, rainbow HTM Air Wovens fly through my peripherals. At this point, every indie movie “aficionado” and Nike fan notes Bill Murray wears a HTM pair in “Lost in Translation”, which takes place in 2003 Tokyo. Perfect. (Hiroshi makes a brief cameo in the film and I’ve always assumed he was somehow connected to Murray’s pair.) Japan’s interest in laceless options still alters releases years later and terrorizes nonresidents like myself. Reebok’s Beatnik aligns more with a sandal than a sneaker, but the country’s fondness resulted in a Japan-only release for a slew of new colorways and a Nepenthes-specific release for the brands’ collaboration. Searches for pairs result in foreign web addresses with intimidating strings of unrecognizable text filling the page followed by a defeated sigh and a closed laptop. We’re still paying for nation’s good taste. The Beatnik definitely coincides with the Japanese outdoor style obsession – which continues to explode across the globe - and its bizarrely jagged, shark tooth outsole still excites fans. I imagine a wider release will ensue, but until that destined time vintage Japanese magazine photos with massive text overlays and oddly cheerful designs fuel my desire. As Suicoke consistently insults themselves with absurd collaborations - Palm Angels? Really? - and my older ACG sandals face inevitable deterioration, I gladly welcome a suede hiking sandal with a center-seam construction hijacked from a burlap feed sack. The Japanese have impeccable sartorial prowess and although affected somewhat by outside sources, retain an aspirational level of individualism. “They’re popular in Japan,” still causes people to envision fashion-forward, slightly avant-garde items that still retain high desirability. Laces, a fundamental component of shoe design in the western world, were never deemed essential in Japan, and the country’s interest in models continues past the time of feudalism and samurai.
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AuthorMax Theriot Archives
November 2019
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