Tom from Crepe City shoed us in. My niece led the way up urban stairs of concrete and steel into a cavernous room made of similar hard stuff. Music boomed so loud we had to shout at one another to be heard.
A sea of black hoodies, baseball hats, rucksacks and box-fresh super trainers adorned the majority of attendees at this Crepe City convention. I followed H’s Inter Jordan All Stars past rows and rows of sneakers for sale and asked for some explanation, some clue as to what all the fuss was about.
“The thing is, the Yeezys for instance – they’ll launch a new style in store, but the queues will start the day before so the chances of getting a pair at the retail price of £150 is slim. The fact that they’re limited in production ultimately increases their value for re-sale. That’s what this is all about” she informed me. “See?” I glanced at the trainer she held up for me to appraise. The price tag attached read ‘£750’ – a punishing price to pay for your inability to be one of the first in line on launch day.
I remained intrigued as we wandered on past the special Back to the Future Part II self-lacing Nike Air MAG trainers and other £3,000 pairs to be envied, admired, and coveted by some, if not all sneaker enthusiasts.
I shamefully looked down at my Ecco Terracruises. “H, I bought these for £12.99 in a charity shop the other day: I feel a bit embarrassed.”
‘It’s okay Auntie Sarah, they’re actually so rare that nobody knows what they are” she said with a wry smile.
I burst out laughing, loving the fact I have a niece with such wit.
At a sneaker-friendly watch stand – finally comfy sofas and a free nailbar. I sat down and took full advantage; neon pink with a lavender heart, mindful of mother’s day ahead.
To my right a girl sat with two watches decorating a heavily tattooed arm. “I had an original one of those in the late 70’s” I said pointing to her gold Casio, “We all did. Wish I’d kept it now – be worth a fortune.”
“Really!” she said. “This is the waterproof one, I wear it all the time and nothing ever happens to it – just keeps on going.”
Heading towards the exit we passed a gentleman wearing a pair of Adidas Hardcourts. “I’ve come from Sweden especially to be here today” he told me. His newly-met companion shifted from one of her SB Dunks to the other, smiling at him admiringly.
I turned to H. “I think I get it now. Time for lunch” I said, walking out into fresh air and sunshine; E Bay on my mind.
Thanks to @hayles45 for manicure photo.
There was a time, not so long ago, when the word that a new restaurant in town had opened, had you hot footing it down there to steal the ashtray and collect the matches while dining on all the alcohol you could possibly manage and shooting the calorie counter up to eleven. The naughtier and more generously appointed the dish the better.
Just in the door, my Skype rang. It was Fifi from Ibiza. “Everyone’s gone home” she said, “The whole family. The temperature’s dropped and the campsite’s finally calming down.”
Conversations with Strangers 