Category Archives: Trying to be slick

Fake Jordans and That’s What You Get

Let’s just file this one under “Trying to be slick”. So my son decided he wanted some Jordans. Every time we went to the mall he wanted to take a look at the shoes, he’d point them out on other people’s feet, he’d even print pictures of them.  Subtlety is not his strong suit. So finally he asked me to by him these kicks. They’re not cheap and since I KNOW my son really isn’t the kind of kid that’s pressed to have the latest sneakers, I knew it had to be a couple of other driving forces behind his request. 1. Some kid in school must be stuntin (styling) on the rest of the kids with a fresh pair of J’s or 2. Dave just really likes these and thinks they will help increase his cool factor on the playground. I told him I’d get him the shoes if he got an A in class. I mean, I know how it is, I was in 5th grade once, and funny enough at the time I wanted some Jordans too! The thing is though, I didn’t get em’ , but my cousin, who was also in 5th grade DID.  Talk about feeling lame when everybody knew we were related and felt the need to ask me: “She got some, why you ain’t got none?” (I grew up in Norfolk and yes, in 5th grade, that’s how we spoke.) So anyway, I told Dave my terms: “No A’s ,No J’s”. He brought me home homework that he had gotten 100s on…UMMMM, I’m like “That’s partially my 100 boy, I helped you with that homework!” “That doesn’t count.” Fast forward a couple weeks into his quest for kicks, Dave goes away to spend the weekend with his Dad. That Sunday he comes home with a fresh hair cut AND GUESS WHAT ELSE…Some Jordans.  The look of triumph and self-satisfaction on his little round brown face when he walked through the door was a carbon copy of Oprah’s expression on every cover of “O” magazine. So he pulls the Jordan’s out of the box and it’s all I can do not to react. First of all I’m a designer, I know streetwear and I definitely KNOW KICKS. I grew up on Michael Jordan and having actually done a project with Jordan Brand, I most certainly know my J’s. What came out of that box, were NOT Jordan’s or at least they were definitely not that ones that have cat’s lining up at midnight in front of Foot Locker. He had apparently gone to Marshall’s and picked these out. I have nothing against Marshall’s, but that is certainly not where you go to get the freshest sneakers.  Apparently Dave doesn’t know this.  So he’s really feeling himself, flaunting these shoes all in my face, trying them on in the mirror then moonwalking from the kitchen into his room.  Through it all I said, not. One. Word. Because I know that this is one lesson he’s going to have to learn the hard way.  The next morning he wakes up bright and early, outfit ready, “Jordan’s” on, and ready to go.


Dave comes home from school, walks through the door,  goes straight to his room, takes off his Jordans, puts them in the box, puts the box on the shelf…never to see the light of day again.  Knowing full well what happened I asked him sweetly “Hey Muffin, how was school?” (I’m bad ha ha)  “They said my Jordan’s were FAKE!” The adult in me should have consoled him and told him that those kids were just being mean and that they don’t know what there talking about. I should have taken this moment to build his confidence in his own style and said “You liked them so that’s all that matters. You shouldn’t care what they say.” Did I say or do any of this? Of course Not, instead I said “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT YOU GET!” “I know those shoes suck, and you do too. I was going to buy you the retro’s, but you tried to be slick, so that’s what you get.” Point taken. Lesson Learned. Goodnight and Good luck.

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