First Impressions Matter
Growing up, basketball wasn’t the cultural phenomenon it is today in many parts of the world. In my small corner of the globe, nestled somewhere far from the buzzing courts of Chicago or Los Angeles, the name Michael Jordan didn’t carry the same weight. Sure, we knew of him—who didn’t?—but the obsession, the hero worship, the sheer force of his legend? That was something I only came to understand much later, and by then, it didn’t resonate with me the way it seemed to with everyone else.
These days, you can’t walk down the street without seeing someone in a pair of Jordans. The shoes have become a staple of fashion, an icon in their own right, transcending the man who inspired them. And yet, there’s a strange irony in that. Ask a random person wearing a pair of Jordan 1s if they know much about Michael Jordan, and you might be surprised at the answers. Some might know he’s a basketball player. Fewer still might be able to rattle off his accolades. But a deep understanding of his impact on the game? That’s rare.
It’s a funny thing, really. Michael Jordan is often hailed as the greatest athlete of all time, but if you were to compare his global recognition to figures like Pele, Maradona, or Muhammad Ali, he might just come up short. In a world where football (or soccer, depending on where you’re reading this) is the most popular sport, Pele and Maradona are revered in every corner of the earth. Muhammad Ali’s influence extends far beyond the boxing ring, making him a cultural icon. Jordan, despite his massive influence in sports and fashion, is a bit more niche by comparison.
Don’t get me wrong—I love fashion. I’m the first to appreciate a well-crafted pair of sneakers. I’ve always gravitated towards the Adidas Sambas, Vans, and handcrafted low-cut boots that speaks to my sense of style. But Jordans? They’ve never really called out to me. There’s something about the hype, the endless retros, the constant re-releases that feels a bit... forced. Everyone seems to be chasing the same thing, and I’ve never been one to follow the crowd.
My fashion journey took me down different paths, exploring brands and styles that weren’t necessarily on everyone else’s radar. While others were lining up for the latest Jordans, I found myself drawn to the unique craftsmanship of other brands, the kind that didn’t require waiting in line or refreshing a webpage at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. I’ve always believed in wearing what resonates with me, not what the world tells me I should be wearing.
And that brings me to an interesting realization. The world’s obsession with Jordans might just be part of a larger trend—one where the product overshadows the story behind it. People wear Jordans because they’re cool, because they’ve been told they’re cool, not necessarily because they feel a connection to the legacy of Michael Jordan. It’s fashion for fashion’s sake, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it’s just not for me.
In a way, I’m glad I don’t own a pair of Jordans. It keeps me grounded in what I truly love about sneakers—the craftsmanship, the individuality, the way a pair of shoes can speak to who you are without saying a word. Jordans are a part of sneaker culture, and they always will be. But for me, they’re just not the part that matters.
So, when someone asks me, “What’s your favorite Air Jordan?” I might just smile and say, “I don’t have one.” And I’m perfectly okay with that.
