My brother and business partner, K,  lives overseas, but he’s always making sure his sneaker game is on par or above anything you’d see here in the States. On a ninja rating from “not allowed in the dojo” to “he’s the sensei’s pet” he’s somewhere demonstrating what the sensei is trying to teach the rest of his students. That said, he figured he’d share with you a little about how he sneaks around in style.

Men don't need hand bags, but these will do.

Where do I start?

1989.  Our (my brothers and I) grandmother bought us sneakers at the Killeen Mall – my first pair of Jordan’s (IV, getting specific.)  I just remember how I felt with those joints on.  I was a chubby kid with glasses, and kids can definitely be cruel.  Those shoes got me more attention than I’d ever received, from people outside of my very small family and few buddies.  I’d see dudes around the way with some heat, and I’d wish I’d had a pair like they had.  But now, when I’d walk into the Boys Club, they were like “yo…those are fresh, man.”  No typical grade school remarks on my size or anything, just how dope my shoes were.  It was like a film or glaze was lifted off my eyes….and theirs.

It was a real eureka moment for me.  It hit home on a few things that I’m still refining to this day.  For one, my grandmother was right – on some level, shoes really do make the man.  I was/am still the same person with or without them, but they’ve made some sort of intangible difference.  Two, there is an art to picking and rocking right kicks.  From that point up through my high school days, I’d find the dope pair that would come slightly from the left – not the latest Jordan necessarily, but those Uptempo’s, or Pippen’s, or something different all together.  I didn’t always have money to buy the dopest clothes, but I knew if I had something unique below my jeans, it would make up for the slack.

Definitely stand out with these Foamposites

After I started working overseas in my early 20s, my kick situation went to astronomical heights, simply because I was making a good bit of change.  And at first it was detrimental – I’d spend ridiculous amounts of money on shoes (a trend that has since been in slow, steady decline for the past few years.  I have to leave here with something.)  But it opened up a whole world of upper echelon shoe collection.

Now, hundreds of pairs later, I’ve come to understand all of this as part of my identity.  It’s part of who I am now – Kahron = fresh sneakers.  It ‘s taken a little bit of trial and error.  I’ve bought all kinds of kicks on impulse, that weren’t even that dope, nor did I have anything I’d actually wear with them.  Now, more often than not, I pick and wear kicks that I know will stand up with time, and are so ill that people that know shoes, and ones that have no clue, ask me the same questions: where’d (or how’d) you get those?  I’m not a box collector; I actually wear my shoes from time to time, although I’ve been known to stack select joints for later dates, an extra pair of Jordan III’s or XI’s or whatever.

A cherry on top of an already dope collection.

Being a sneaker head isn’t really a specifically aesthetics-driven lifestyle, nor is it necessarily about sneakers, at least not for me.  It shouldn’t actually be you.  It’s life accentuation and augmentation to the style you’ve cultivated.  Being a head doesn’t mean you need a million pairs of Jordan’s, nor do you need to spend your entire check on shoes.   It’s not even about the brand – I have everything from ALIFE to adidas Y-3’s to NB’s to Clarks in various places.  It’s about picking the right kicks for you, and having confidence in your collection – which is the main point.  Shoes make the man confident, stylish, and prepared – all things women like in various amounts.  Moreover, they tell your story.  Just have to make sure the one you tell is accurate.