I bought shoes with my name on them
They gave me an existential crisis.
Photo by Hiis
“One should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art”
My latest purchase is on the table in front of me. A pair of Adidas Superstars. My name embroidered on the side. I’ve been wearing Superstars almost every day for the last eight years. They’re expensive yes, but comfortable, well made, and last a long time. I don’t care too much about the latest fashion, but I care what I look like. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do. My outfit usually consists of a plain black or white t-shirt, black tight-fitting jeans, and a black coat for cold days. A timeless style. Or so I hope. The Superstars complete the look. I usually wear white ones, this time I wanted to go black. Mostly because it’s fall, and white gets stained in the rain.
The black classic Superstars were sold out everywhere. I went to Adidas’ official website and found a new design: Superstar adv.
Perfect, maybe they will help me be more adventurous. I put them in the basket and went to checkout. For 20 USD I could get the shoes personalised. Ooh, I thought. A way to make them my own. I put down Hiis and checked out. Didn’t think much about it.
Then they arrived
If you’ve ever been to Apple’s website, you’ll know that they offer free engraving on many of their products. Free! Those Apple guys sure are nice. What’s that? Are you struggling to sell your iPad because you engraved your name on it? Don’t worry, Apple offers trade-in. They’ll give you maybe 1/3 of the price you’d get on the aftermarket, way less if it’s a couple of years old.
Even though engraving is optional and free, putting it front and center without any warnings feels sneaky. Yes, you are able to return an engraved item within the return window, but selling it is going to be hard.
I’m guessing that Adidas isn’t too afraid of the aftermarket. Online clothing stores have a bigger problem than people re-selling clothes, namely dealing with the massive amount of returns. Adidas don’t hide the fact that you can’t return personalised items, and most people wouldn’t expect them to either. It makes me wonder if online clothing stores, the big ones at least, will start to offer personalisation for free in the future to save money on returns.
So, I can’t return the shoes in front of me. I’m too embarrassed to try to sell them. What I can do, however, is put them in a Salvation Army box. It wouldn’t be the first time I would have put something unused in one of those boxes. Buyer’s remorse is kind of my thing.
Is this really about clothes?
As I mentioned above, I care what I look like, and I believe clothes play a huge role in how people see you. A person in a suit gives off a different vibe than someone in sweatpants and a hoodie. Of course, your human parts play a big role too. In Burn After Reading, Brad Pitt plays a goofy doofus who lacks self-awareness. To emphasise this, legendary costume designer Mary Zophres made him wear, among other things, shorts and a cheap-looking suit that didn’t really fit. But it’s Brad Pitt! And according to IMDB, Zophres had to admit that even cheap suits look good on Brad Pitt.
I’m no Brad Pitt, and thank God for that. 20 years ago I would have sold my soul to look like him. Now, I prefer to be invisible. Not always, of course. But I like to be able to take photos on busy streets without anyone noticing. Or sit in a park or a coffee shop with my companion device, blending in with the surroundings. No one giving me so much as a second glance. My wardrobe is designed for this purpose. Not too extravagant, not too shabby. The name written on my new pair of shoes isn’t going to sabotage that. The letters are tiny, barely noticeable. It’s not the problem.
Ten characters, I could have written something cool. I went for my name. Basically a $20 name tag. Embarringsly basic, but not only that. Staring at the tiny letters making out my name made me reconsider my whole identity. Have I made myself too invisible? Is this my subconscious telling me that my life is a lie, that I do indeed want to be Brad Pitt famous?
It has been a week, and the shoes are still on the table, unworn. I’ve come to the conclusion that, no, I don’t want to be famous, but I don’t want to be forgotten either. It’s why I write. Why I started this blog. I want to be seen, and I believe that most, if not all, of us do. Marketers know this all too well. They’ve mastered the art of exploiting it, and in a weak moment, they convinced me that a pair of overpriced shoes with my name on them would somehow make me memorable.
I might be reading too much into it.
