er, John, found a weather forecasting website right up your street.
This is the patent application Nike recently filed for the MARTY MCFLY-STYLE SELF-TIGHTNING SNEAKERS.
I’m not getting too excited because, well, it’s no hoverboard, and we’ve got less than 5 years until those are supposed to be released. (seriously, inventors, get inventing)
Want more sneaker-porn? here’s the patent application in full, complete with self-charging batteries
If you like sneaks, you gotta watch this.
If you like Beats, you gotta watch this.
If you like people who wear their trousers backwards, you gotta watch this.
If you like west-coast pop-lock, you gotta watch this!
It’s tough being a mum, doubly so if you’re the unfortunate parent of two uncouth geordie sociopaths whose feet refuse to stop growing. This may just be a sad reflection on the average ability and intelligence of north east shoe shop staff but, when I was growing up they had machines to tell you what size of shoe you needed. Every few months, when we’d worn through our start-rites, Jonny and I would get dragged to Clarks in Eldon Square, possibly the grimmest shopping centre ever made.
Upon arrival we would be shepherded over to a sales assistant who would be between 14-19 years old, bear in mind this is the north east so, as a proud parent of at least three kids (by the same amount of fathers) she would already be good at dealing with children. In a room full of other kids you would then face the ultimate bravery test for a child in the north east, the measuring machine. Shitting yourself, you walk towards a machine similar in appearance to a treadmill and stand on it, in the middle was a hole which you placed your foot in. Two metal plates, top and bottom, would move towards the centre (where your foot was), followed by two from the side, stopping when they hit your foot and measuring your shoe size with the kind of accuracy NASA would be proud of.
According to the best playground physicists amongst us, The Crusher acted in a similar way “to that thing on Blue Peter that smashes cars” and would definitely “squish your feet into mince”. Heeding the warnings of our advisors, my brother and I strenuously refused to go near the machine. Eventually we would be dragged from the shop, when our mum’s insistence that the machine was safe got drowned out by the Clark’ Shoes Junior Choir’s rendition of “what does fuck off mean?”.
If anyone knows where this machine is I want another go, on full power. There’s no way my feet will fit in these, and they’re not releasing adult sizes.
For those of you who have sprogs, get them at Crooked Tongues.
This is an imaginary sneaker-heel, by one of my favourite artists, INSA. Insa has been known to graff-heads for a long while, but over the past few years he’s turned his attention to footware and furniture design. the main source of his inspiration seems to be the lower half of the female form. Right On.
I don’t know what the rest of her looks like and, frankly, I don’t care. I’m off to the states to hunt this chick down.
cool kicks company ✓
wacky speakers made out of sneeker boxes ✓
more than likely mega bucks spent on production ✓
apple product placement ✓
most ridiculous concept ever ✓