The Shoe Must Go On

Uh, what? What the hell are these things? High-top slippers? Why? How? Who?

For sneakerheads, that’s who. For people who are obsessed with sneaker design, sneaker history, sneaker culture. You may not know them by that name, but you probably know somebody who fits the description. We’re talking about the kind of aficionados who are as finicky about details, as encyclopedic about lore, as any collector of vintage vinyl LPs or classic comics. They follow slick, well-funded, heavily trafficked sneaker news sites like Sole Collector and Sneaker News and Kicks on Fire and Sneaker Freaker. These people are serious about their shoes.

These Kozy Soles High Top Slippers pay tribute to some of the most iconic pairs in footwear history, which sneakerheads can identify in their sleep. There’s “The Beginning”, modeled on the shoe that started it all, the Nike Air Jordan 1. There’s “Ultramagnetic”, styled after the Air Jordan 6 from Jordan’s early '90s prime as a player. There’s “Palm Trees”, replicating the look of Nike’s best-loved LeBron shoe, the South Beach 8, and “Milky Way”, a salute to the 2012 shoe some have called “the most important sneaker of the century”, the Nike Foamposite One Galaxy.

And, of course, there’s “McSteeze”, representing the fictional shoe that became real, the Nike Air Mag from Back to the Future II:

These Kozy Soles High-Top Slippers have gotten coverage in the aforementioned Sneaker News, and there’s even a Reddit thread about them, which attests to their appeal among the sneakerati.

But wait, how did we get here? How did shoes originally designed purely for athletic utility become style signifiers, available in every possible mutation of color and form and material that the human foot can possibly accommodate, with names like Presto Extreme, Zoom Talaria, and Tubular Consortium (and those are just from this month’s new releases)?

Well, Michael Jordan wasn’t the first athlete to put his name on a sneaker. Basketball player Chuck Taylor endorsed Converse All-Stars way back in 1923, although he was apparently a better shoe salesman than a player.

Jordan also wasn’t the first celebrity to make sneakers a subcultural sensation. James Dean and Marlon Brando made low-top canvas sneakers an essential accoutrement for ‘50s bohemians, and the Ramones’ high-top Chuck Taylors did the same for the punk era. But those shoe statements were taken up by mostly white, largely affluent kids anxious to emphasize their grit, their rejection of fashion as a defining personal characteristic. Those sneakers, simple and cheap, were supposed to be anti-style.

But it was when Nike signed Jordan to a contract in 1985 and issued the Air Jordan 1 for the then unheard-of price of $64.99 that sneakers became aspirational. That resonated much more with kids (largely but not entirely black, largely but not entirely working-class) keen to show off their upward-looking tastes and personal refinement. That’s why Buggin’ Out bugged out when his Air Jordan IVs got scuffed.

When Run-DMC cut “My Adidas” in 1986, Air Jordans now had their foil. The battle lines were drawn. Your choice of shoes was about more than comfort, or even style: it was about who you were. It was about identity.

The thirty years since have seen countless trends, looks, hits, misses, from the most ridiculous couture concoctions to the most intentionally understated throwbacks, from mass hits to ultra-limited editions. But the $34 billion industry (in annual sales in the U.S. alone) still serves up heaping helpings of aspiration and identity - with a side order of nostalgia for anybody old enough to warmly remember the three-peat Chicago Bulls or Marty McFly.

For sneakerheads, what you wear on your furthest extremities is one of the most intimately personal choices you can make. And thanks to the ever-decreasing formality of American life, they can wear sneakers just about anywhere, all the time.

That’s what makes Kozy Soles High-Top Slippers the perfect gift for sneakerheads, aspiring sneakerheads, and the sneaker-curious. Your friend (or self) can put on that identity the second they step out of bed in the morning. Actually, why stop there? If they want to sleep in them, hey, that’s nobody’s business but theirs. (Or yours.)