Conventional sneakerhead logic holds that once Michael Jordan left the Chicago Bulls for good in 1998, his line of signature Air Jordan sneakers took a major hit. The classic colorblocked Jordan 1s through the holographic logo-featuring 13—which were made famous by The Shot, and Space Jam, and the Ban, and Denzel Washington in Spike Lee’s He Got Game—make up the brand’s “golden era.” These were wearable, forward-thinking designs that got more coveted with each new ring Jordan won. But the last sneaker he wore as a member of the Bulls, the Air Jordan 14 (which he only wore for part of the season), started to veer into head-scratching territory, thanks to a Ferrari-inspired design that looked more like a steering wheel met a bear claw. Things just got weirder from there: The 15s looked like origami, while the 19s featured a piece of screen-door-like mesh over their laces. Even Tinker Hatfield, who designed every Air Jordan sneaker from 3 to 15, has called the Air Jordan 15 his worst effort. But these days, it seems like his Airness's later Jordans—thanks to nostalgia, irony, and a few collaborations that reveal their high-fashion vibes—are increasingly embraced by the streetwear scene. The least-cool Jordans just might finally be cool.

Consider the major co-signs, starting with Drake. The big ting himself, who's collaborated with Air Jordan on the Jordan 10 and 12, has recently performed concerts in the mesh-adorned Air Jordan 19. He’s also posted photos on Instagram of him wearing the Air Jordan 17s and 15s, the latter of which he's described as the first Air Jordans he ever bought. Quavo, perhaps the most prolific rapper in music today, has been seen rocking the Air Jordan 16s. And Wizards point guard John Wall rocked up to an April game wearing the 14s. Three famous dudes—all of whom came of age while MJ was wearing his least-cool Jordans—are now into those same shoes.

Drake performing in a pair of Air Jordan 19 sneakers. Prince Williams

But it’s not just the big guys. Even more niche influencers are leading the charge for late-model Jordans. Rapper ASAP Twelvyy’s got a pair of 15s in his rotation. And Bloody Osiris, a big-on-Instagram stylist (who’s modeled for Kanye West and styled for Off-White), has taken to the platform to sport 14s and 15s by styling them in unexpected outfits. (The only other person who's rocked the 14s with leather pants was probably Michael Jordan himself—and we’re pretty sure it didn’t go well.)

The uptick in interest for post-Bulls-era Jordans is similar to the phenomenon that’s currently taking hold of the vintage car market. Late-’80s and early-’90s cars are going for astronomical prices at auctions because a guy who grew up with a poster of a BMW e30 M3 on his bedroom wall now actually has the money to buy one. By the time I really cared about what sneakers went on my feet, Michael Jordan was already approaching 40 and playing for the Washington Wizards. But he was still Michael Jordan, the god of basketball—so I’ve got more genuine nostalgia for the Jordan 18s than a pair like the legendary 6s, released the year I was born. Shoes like the 16s, 17s, and 18s were what I saw on shelves in Foot Locker, and on friends and enemies at school. Later, the sneaker establishment would tell me—through various online forums—that I had been misguided, and at the time I took their word for it. But nearly a decade later, I’d rather spend my time and money attempting to recapture those warm, fuzzy feelings of my youth than wear the “right” Jordans. Sure, 18s might be ugly. But I still want them.