I’ve been buying the same pair of shoes, the Nike Cortez, since I was 14 years old. I got my first pair while broadening my fashion taste and developing my sense of style, and wearing them is now an integral part of my daily life.
The first time I ever saw the Nike Cortez was when Forrest Gump wore them on a park bench in Savannah, Georgia — my hometown. I instantly adored the classic sleek white, red and blue design and admired the unique yet slightly ugly silhouette, almost resembling a bowling shoe.
I found the shoes online and the history behind them was vastly different than anything I could imagine. They originated at the 1972 Olympic Games and were soon worn by celebrities like Farrah Fawcett, and eventually Whitney Houston. The shoe’s popularity further increased during the 1980s and 1990s in Southern California and was worn by artists like Snoop Dogg and Eazy-E. I was amazed by the shoe’s status as a cultural phenomenon that lasted three decades across America.
The Nike Cortez has taken on many special editions since its inception, but the traditional white, red and blue pair remain in style. The Nike Cortez is a classic yet unique piece of American streetwear and I knew a pair could effortlessly broaden my style, so I bought my first pair for $90.
The first time I wore the sneakers, the laces lay perfectly against the smooth bright white leather. My dad laughed when he saw me wearing them, telling me he had the same pair when he was my age.
Years later, my dad showed me a picture taken at my grandmother’s house in the 80s — him as a teenager, wearing the same smile and shoes I wore forty years later. This small parallel between my father and I gave the Nike Cortez sentimentality, which is why I still wear them today.
People generations older than me often stop to compliment my shoes and reflect on their first pair of Nike Cortez, telling me a story similar to my dad’s. Every time this happens I’m reminded of my dad and comforted by the generational similarities of style.
I wore my first pair every day until they were covered in dirt and beginning to fray. After almost a year of wear, they developed holes in the heels bad enough to see through the rubber. I soon purchased my second pair and wore them until they met the same demise, thus beginning the cycle of wearing my shoes to death.
Throughout my life, I’ve pushed myself to grow and evolve. At times, this has put me in places of extreme discomfort, like when I chose to attend a large university more than 700 miles away from home. Graduating from a small high school class and coming to Temple by myself made me worry about finding my place in college. When I felt overwhelmed, I put on my Nike Cortez and walked around Philadelphia to see other people’s unique lives, reminding myself I would find my way too.
I even wore them while studying abroad in Rome, kicking up dirt and trekking eight hours around the Aurelian Walls. They stayed on my feet while traveling and navigating six European countries with friends that semester. Visiting foreign places with unfamiliar languages gave me lifelong memories and the confidence to continue traveling. This experience was full of extreme growth, but I still left the same zig zag shoe imprint wherever I went.
I am persistently moving and going places farther from home because I’m worried about wasting my potential. Sometimes the distance away from home and a need to experience the most of life make me feel lost, but the Nike Cortez settles my anxieties and serves as a reminder that I’m capable of going through difficult life experiences.
Wearing the same sneakers everyday gives me a perception of stability. These shoes are the only item in my closet that has remained the same as I’ve gotten older, even as my style has matured and evolved.
Now when I look down at the sneakers, I recognize the occasions and times of discomfort while wearing the shoes and how they helped me develop, thrive and become who I am today.
The shoes have undeniable comfort and reliability that have kept me a loyal consumer. Every time I purchase my next pair of shoes the thought of buying a different style never even crosses my mind.
By the end of the movie Forrest Gump, Forrest’s shoes are indistinguishable — falling apart, ripped and covered in mud — because he wore them for years running across America. After around a year of wear, my shoes begin to look the same.
This is the first time in my life the concept of broadening my horizon is nonexistent because these shoes are what ground me. Now on my sixth pair of Nike Cortez, I look at the heel and see the rubber so thin, signaling just a few more wears before I need another pair.
Be the first to comment