pumaAll that marketers wish to accomplish is a little brand loyalty. Get you hooked when you’re young, make you believe that their product is part of your personality, then milk the good vibrations for 50 years worth of purchases. I’d like to believe I’m a bit more logical than that. I’m loyal to brands, but it has more to do with experience. After all, if you’re replacing a Honda with fifteen years and 150,000 miles on it, why would you switch to a Toyota?

And it’s with those thoughts that I realize it’s time to purchase some new tennis shoes. Now this is quite a big deal in my life. I’m touchy about shoes; I’d gladly pay $200 if the quality made it worth it. Unlike many slightly younger males, I have no innate tennis shoe loyalty (since there just weren’t many choices when I was young). I probably had a pair of early Nikes, some Vans, and multiple Chuck Taylors. But purchasing based on nostalgia feels creepy.

And while I used to make fun of the weird hipster sites that trolled for vintage shoes, I’m really going to miss my tan, suede Puma Roma 68s. I bought them in the clearance aisle at MC Sports. They were so dated that the checker said, “I believe those come with a free pet rock.” (Honestly. My style got taunted by a dude taking my money at MC Sports!) And then they went on to live a life of epic proportions, refusing to be ripped or worn down after five years of wear and tear. Then the tiniest of holes, worn through the leather by my crook’d toe, forced me to face up to reality.

Why would I switch to anything else? No apostasy for me. C’mon, Ebay, treat me right!