_The Air Jordan 4 Retro is priced at $20,000 at Stadium Goods. Eminem and the Jordan brand collaborated on this release in honor of the 15th anniversary of the 'Marshall Mathers LP.'_
In 2007, I moved out of my parents' house in Northern Virginia by selling my sneaker collection. I probably had about 80 or 90 pairs at the time, all of which I'd bought with money scraped from a part-time job at Urban Outfitters. Each pair was copped in DMV-area stores like Commonwealth and Major. I didn't consider myself a true "sneakerhead" back then, since a lot of my collection was general release stuff like Nike Dunks, Vans Sk8-His, and a few of adidas's early "Adi Color" collaborations. But I had a couple of legit gems, like the MF Doom Nike Dunk SB Highs and a few pairs of Vans done with cult Japanese label WTAPS and designer Marc Jacobs—probably one of the first high-profile fashion sneaker collabs.
I didn't really want to part with Jacobs's trompe l'oeil Slip-Ons that emulated the Old Skool, but the thought of living in my first "adult" apartment in the city outweighed my desire to flex. I knew absolutely nothing about the sneaker aftermarket, and most of them had been worn, so I sold them all in one big auction on eBay. I made about $4,000. It was enough to cover my first month's rent and security deposit. Once that was taken care of, I did what any sensible person would do—I spent the rest on new sneakers. Soulja Boy had just dropped "I Got Me Some Bapes," after all
Four years later, I moved to New York and started working atComplex, which began my proper education in sneaker culture. One of the first people I met was Russ Bengtson, a Senior Editor who's been writing, wearing, and thinking critically about sneakers for the better part of 20 years. He doesn't remember the last time he counted how many pairs he owns, but he estimates it's in the thousands. He rotates around 100 pairs that are immediately accessible to him, with a bunch in a storage space in Long Island.
Bengtson began looking at sneakers like collectors' items instead of pragmatic footwear around 1994 or 1995, when he bought a pair of Jordan "retros." Retros are reissued versions of shoes that originally came out in the 80s and 90s, when Jordan was cementing his legacy on the court. It isn't just rarity that can drive up the demand for the kicks, it's also their cultural cache, and most importantly: being in "deadstock" condition.
Deadstock is a retail term that applies to merchandise that sat on the shelves, never sold, and was pretty much left forgotten in a warehouse or a back room. In the sneaker world, the term has come to mean a pair of shoes that's still in-the-box fresh, despite being years—even decades—old. It's a mint condition, wearable time capsule. A pair of deadstock kicks is more or less a holy grail
_he Air Jordan 11 Pantone/White is priced at $10,000 at Stadium Goods. This sneaker was released in 2010. It was only supposed to be made for display purposes. It was re-released as a set in 2014_
Early sneaker resellers scoured mom-and-pop sporting goods stores for unsold treasures, like a limited pair of Air Force 1s or Air Maxes, kicking off the demand for deadstock sneakers. Now, the search for deadstock sneakers has gotten so intense, there's even a Toronto sneaker store that's adopted the term as its name. And depending on a sneaker's rarity and consumer demand, a pair of genuine deadstock kicks can command up to $23,500, like a pair of ultra-limited Undefeated Air Jordan IVs for sale at Stadium Goods. Those shoes are notable not just for being the first time the Jordan Brand collaborated with a third-party company, but also the fact that only 79 pairs were made for public consumption.
"It stands as one of the few Jordans that have been limited like that," says Bengston. "Owning a shoe like that—given how few there are—is sort of a badge of honor for some people, where it becomes sort of a 'centerpiece' for your collection," he continues.
Sneaker culture often affixes nicknames to certain shoes owing to the moments that made them important. Case in point: The "Flu Game" Jordan 12s, a pair of black-and-red high-tops equally inspired by the Nisshoki Japanese flag and a pair of 19th-Century women's boots. The shoes were made famous in game five of the 1997 NBA Finals, when Jordan endured a case of food poisoning to help lead the Bulls to a two-point victory over the Utah Jazz. The sneaker was re-released in 2003 and 2009, and is currently valued around $650 on the aftermarket for the 2009 versions. In 2013, former NBA ball boy Preston Truman auctioned off the actual game-worn pair, netting$104,000
_The Air Yeezy Net/Net is priced $3,000, the Air Yeezy Zen Grey/Light Charcoal is priced at $3,250, and the Air Yeezy Black/Black is priced at $3,500 at Stadium Goods. Each color way originally had a suggested retail price of $215 and sold out almost immediately_
It wasn't always this way. Bengtson remembers burgeoning sneaker culture had a very different mindset. Sneaker and hip-hop figurehead Bobbito Garcia wrote the tome on NYC sneaker culture's early days in 2003, Where'd You Get Those?, where he talks about how attitudes in the inner-city towards sneakers evolved from 1960-1987. Back in the day, flexing on your peers was more about finding a brand or model they'd never heard of and one-upping them with the diversity of your sneaker knowledge and corresponding collection.
"Somewhere along the line it changed from wearing things that people wouldn't know what they were, and now you wear things that people know exactly what they are, and you just want to make people jealous because they don't have them," says Bengtson.
Around the mid-2000s, sneakers went from a niche hobby to a cross-cultural obsession. Stüssy began releasing coveted collaborations of the Nike Dunk, and Nike began its foray into skateboarding, enlisting an eclectic Rolodex of artists like Futura, De La Soul, and Pushead to make limited-edition sneakers that sold out instantly. Sure, some people skated in them, but most didn't. A lot of people realized they could resell them for way over the retail price.
Flight Club opened its doors in 2005 as a new type of sneaker shop. It didn't order kicks wholesale and sell them at retail. Instead, it provided buyers and sellers alike with a platform to sell their shoes on consignment. The revolving stock was fueled by the principles of supply and demand. People were willing to pay a premium to get a pair of shoes that had sold out in their size.
As Bengtson puts it: "Where else can you buy something for $150-$200 and literally have it immediately be worth $2,000?"
_The Air Foamposite One Paranorman is priced at $5,000 at Stadium Goods. They sneakers were released in late 2012 and pay tribute to the film 'Paranorman.'_
But how are those prices determined? According to Yu-Ming Wu, founder of the website Sneaker News and partner at recently opened retail resale shop Stadium Goods, they consider the entire marketplace.
"We generally have an idea of what market prices are like at the moment," says Wu. "We like to be fairly competitive in terms of those prices. We look at the market as a whole. Not just direct competition, but what it's looking like on eBay, the smaller resale shops, apps, and third-party marketplaces."
Indeed, the Flight Clubs, Stadium Goods, and RIFs of the world aren't the only places to buy deadstock sneakers. While they offer a white glove experience and the instant gratification of being able to take your kicks home that day, often the prices add a premium to the existing premium. Sellers get 80 percent of a sale, the other 20 percent goes to the shop. Part of it goes to the convenience factor—you just drop off your shoes, and they take care of the rest. Another is the fact that any shop with a physical location has the bills that go with it.
posted from Bloggeroid
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