I am not a good tennis player.
Sometimes I tell people that I am but it is a lie. I took lessons from the time I was eight until I was eight-and-a-half and in those sweet, short six months, I learned that my hand-eye coordination is not bad but catastrophically laughable. I am also not susceptible to ball hitting or catching (do with that information what you want) and as much as I like to believe that I am a woman of many colors, neon is technically not my friend.
It hates me, in fact. This theory has been further propelled only by an almost broken nose that suspended my tennis career at eight-and-a-half.
What I am good at is simple and rather unimpressive: dressing the part. Or I should really say, pulling details from the part and making them seem so my own that layman bystanders or the uninitiated are effectively forced to believe that, in the case of my white sneakers, I am an off-duty tennis pro. A pro at all sports, actually. It is that natural.
I know that when I started wearing Golden Goose it was because I loved the way their white sneakers looked. They came dirty and with suede accents and grey laces and if you wanted, a splash of green or red or gold. What I’m not sure about is what initially elicited my interest in wearing white sneakers at all. Until two years ago, they were much more nurse taking vitals than they were tennis — or street style — star.
Blame the former semblance on Reebok and the latter, maybe, on a perfect storm that has come in the wake of a popularity surge in formal shoes that are white (they took Emily Post’s post-Labor Day decree and shoved it right on up her behind) and Isabel Marant’s wedge sneakers. Whether I like to admit it or not, they were essentially a gateway drug that turned me into a fashion victim-cum-certified aerobics instructor.
The thing is, I certainly didn’t figure my proclivity for white rubber soles a trend so much as I did a function of how I liked to look. But now, with Hedi Slimane’s sneakers for Saint Laurent, The Great Adidas Original Comeback (my mom will jovially brag that she’s been wearing hers, no break, since 1972 which is not a lie) and any number of fashion sneaker brands mimicking the shoes that hearken back to the preferred footwear of The Wonder Years‘ Winnie, it’s probably time to reassess that thought and perhaps even suggest that you too jump on this bleached bandwagon?
Come on, give your bunions a break.