The world I live in was build from the ground up. Pyramids, towers, skyscrapers, houses, trees, mountains all not possible without powerful foundations. But why would that matter to me? I’m no engineer in the classical sense. (Since) I was just a kid I just knew that something about this made sense.
What is it about the root of things that grabs me as a crux? Why do I have this connection to the bottom from which we build up? As I look down at my shoe strings. Quickly I realize this is the answer I was looking for. Allowing me to stand strong on crooked floor and stand out amongst the Toms and Steves and sometimes its just the way they extend graciously from the bottom of my jeans.
See what I don my feet with is not a secret to anyone who sees it, but meaning goes deep within. I love how these crisp white Adidas, make some guys speechless. Clean without smudges or creases leather bleached perfectly taking soft steps like I’m walking on beaches.
There’s more to it than you think. The link goes beyond my gait, every step in these light brown burnt toe oxfords that I take gives me more confidence than I had two steps before. So now when opportunity knocks I don’t just open I step through the door.
Part of it is the look but the other part is the journey I wore the same kicks on the Great Wall and then on a Kenyan Safari. One pair of tigers ran through the turf and claimed their worth while taking a beating and still scheming to be the go to kick whenever its stormy or freezing. Oxblood verses demand to be heard, though slightly snug, they scream uniqueness without words or symbols trying to live the dream of being unforgettable.
A wise man once told me that the shoes don’t make the man and the man makes the shoes. I would say that the shoes make the man make the moves to shake the moods that makes him lose. So if you had the choice between a closet full of solid foundations or a couple pair of deteriorating bases…which would you choose?