If you wanna hear it…
Samba-Alts
Who doesn’t love a good ball cap? Thinking ‘bout them right now. Thinking bout how I come upon them. How I trade ‘em. Swipe ‘em. Cop ‘em at a moments notice. And I’d say I’m quite good at it too. Snap decisions only. Pull up or pull out. Gut logic.
Oddly enough, it was a sneaker purchase that had me thinking about how I come upon hats. It was that time of year again. I needed a new pair of Samba-alts. You read that correctly. Samba. Alts. Exactly what it sounds like. An alternative to the Adidas Samba. Not that anyone is really rocking the Samba anymore. Well, not as many people are rocking the Samba anymore. But do you remember about four years ago? When the Adidas Samba conquered the human foot? I’d never seen a takeover so swift. A run so dominant. A shoe so present at all times of the day and night. I never owned a pair of Sambas. Wouldn’t catch me dead in ‘em. But I did respect what made the shoe so popular. The Pedro Pascal of sneakers. Overplayed…but you know what? Damn effective. It’s why I looked for a Samba alternative four summers ago. Or a Samba-Alt, if you will. A cheap white sneaker that I could dust up on the street then Clorox-wipe clean for cocktail hour. So I found my way to the Nordstrom Rack. Locked up a pair of Puma Ligas. End of story. But the next Summer, a hole emerged in the left heel of my Ligas. Thus beginning the Samba-Alt hunt once again. I found my way to DSW. Wouldn’t ya know it? But some Golas were just there waiting for me. Summer of last year I shifted to Ebay. How ‘bout some Onitsuka Tigers, why don’t ya? Pretty sure they were fake. Played nonetheless. And now earlier this Summer, there I was again…in search of my fourth generation of Samba-alts. But something has changed.
The common denominator has disappeared. It’s true what they say. We’re divided. Politically and stylistically fractured. In our tribal, mono-less culture world…we’re even too divided to agree upon an 80 buck casual sneaker to run into the ground. The same guys and gals who rolled up to a 2012 brunch, 12 deep in Stan Smiths, then the famed Sambas 10 years later, are dare I say…all looking for their own Samba-alts. It’s resulted in my sacred DSW clearance section peddling out has-been hits, becoming cooked itself. No more zagging if everybody refuses to zig. But then again, why was I looking to zag for the purpose of zagging? What’s the merit in hunting for the B-Side just for the sake of being different? Why must I be so damn alt?
It’s brought me to the cursed 3rd Street Promenade. I’m not here aimlessly shopping for Samba-alts. No sir. I’m at the Genius Bar with a broken laptop, standing and typing this very essay on a demo computer (full-on Hank Moody mode). And it’s been a struggle to do so. There is a hole in the left heel of my Onitsuka Tigers. So I am without proper hardware. Both for word processing and for walking. Even worse, I am a footwear coward.
But then again…hats. I am no ball cap coward. I don’t sift through tabs of affiliate links for the crowns I place atop my dome. So maybe I should bring my hatquisitional methodology down south to the world of footwear. No more research. No more comparing. NO MORE CONTRASTING. I just gotta be alt by living. Letting the perfect casual sneaker come to me like the ballcap always does. In our Pinterest-pilled, Strategist-stricken world…we could all use a little more ball cap logic. Might end up with a regret or two or we might end up starting the next Samba revolution. Brutally bringing us all together to absolutely cook a shoe once again. The hunt for alts has ended. But the hunt for myself has just begun.
Long story short, imma try Footlocker.
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Your father has been authenticated , wheeew!! Well written and punchy.
need recs for THE ROGER - alt