I went into the adidas UK HQ this week. It was weird. I was talking about grown up stuff. As I entered the massive shoebox through some confusing glass doors, I contemplated the first time I’d been in there, years and years ago.
Back in the 80s, adidas moved to Stockport and the town was flooded with cut price, three striped sportswear. Every man, woman and dog was kitted out in the stuff. I was only joking about the dogs. But it was lots of people. I was no different. The availability of mad trainers and associated Equipment equipment has become more relevant since adidas started raiding their archives. A pair of black and white Oregon with a mesh sole sat solemnly in my Dad’s wardrobe for years, the victim of a gluttonous “They’re only £8, fuck it, I’ll buy ’em” spree. Before my feet could catch up with his, he threw them away, hot on the heels of a pair of tobacco.
I’ve never talked about this before. I’ve been too angry, you see.
But wait, these ZXZ930 hit the spot. Ok, so they’re not 1990s Oregon, but then they’re actually nicer, not to mention newer. They’re beachcomb meets honeycomb, they’re bright trainers for bright mornings going to buy caffeine free coke.
And that’s why I like them.