why are sneakers exciting?

I bought new sneakers yesterday, which is always exciting. No, not because I'm a girl and all girls intrinsically love adding new footwear to their collection... ahem, Elaine.

These babies are my first pair of Nikes since I was like 12, when I boycotted them. 'Why?' you may ask? Some would respond that it's because of the exploitation of young'ns in the Chinese work force. Nope, not my reason... though I certainly commend those folks for their noble nature.

It all goes back to when my brother went through his infamous head-to-toe Nike phase, when a typical outfit would feature Nike basketball sneakers, black Nike socks, Nike mesh shorts, a Nike t-shirt, a Nike sweatshirt and of course - the cherry on top of his bowl haircut - a Nike hat. This "phase" lasted for several years, and the over saturation of Nike apparel floating around the house made me shudder at all things swoosh-related. Only yesterday, 13 years later, did I finally break down and invest in a pair of Nike kicks that caught my eye and hugged my feet like little clouds of heaven. And, I must admit, they're pretty rad.

Why is it that buying sneakers excites me so? Well, to begin, anything new is exciting and there's definitely something to be said for the beneficial powers of retail therapy. But secondly, there was always something thrilling about buying new sneakers as kids, when the parentals loaded us up in the family station wagon (hell yeah wood-grain panels!), shuffled us into the local Stride Rite store and deposited us at the feet of some archetypal frumpy store clerk, who then embarked on the tedious process of getting us to stop squirming, measuring our feet, and then testing how much room we had in the various footwear candidates that came through the swinging door.

Eventually we'd narrow down the options, whining our way out of the personal favorites of our parents, and finally select the winning pair of gleaming white sneakers that would make us the masters of all outdoor pursuits. We'd proudly and squeakily wear them out of the store, our dingy and probably ill-fitting ones hidden away like illegitimate children.

We'd get home, anxious to show off our fabulous new high-tops in a game of neighborhood 4-square or tackle football, fully-convinced that with our brand new footwear we could run faster, jump higher, throw stronger and certainly look all sorts of good. We'd open the front door and wave regally to our friends like pint-sized popes greeting the hoards in Saint Peter's Square (otherwise known as our front yard). Just as we'd open our mouths to brag "Hey look at my new..", our mother always appeared out of thin air.

"No, no... those are your 'good' sneakers. Go put your old ones back on to play outside." And in that moment, all the fun was squeezed right out of the situation and our athletic prowess was placed back into the box... to be saved for more appropriate childhood activities that did not entail anything that sneakers are technically designed for.

So to answer the question, I just get excited that I don't have to "save" my new sneakers.