A small book documenting the trainer obsession that myself, Emma Balebela, has developed since 1998. To Francine, I am sorry that I would rather spend money on trainers than on healthy food, and that I worry more about getting them dirty than I do about global affairs. To Kathy, keep going. The shoes, the jewelry, just don’t stop. To Natwest, don’t judge.
S A F E
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THE SPICE GIRLS
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Scary Spice Baby Spice Sporty Spice Slutty Spice, who was ginger Posh Spice
The year was 1998, Swindon was sunny and alive the notion that a 5 piece girl band called the Spice Girls was pretty much taking over the world. I was 3 at the time, 2 weeks before my birthday to be exact, and was quickly growing out of my jelly sandals that I had at the time. Not to mention the fact that jelly sandals were like walking on death. My sister and I have 10 years between us, she was 14 at the time and the one of the ‘cool kids’ at school, so being her little sister was like being part of her cool ‘clique’. Her and her friends were planning on going shopping and as I was starting to be a little shit at home, I joined them to give my mum some time to relax. The pain was unbearable, yet as we got to ASDA it became to harsh to handle. And then I saw them. The freshest pair (at the time) of Spice Girls branded shoes. They had a heel light, each member of the group featured on the side and on the velcro, and the most universal colourway since Jesus turned up with the brown on cream sandals. They were heaven. Still have them, in the loft. Gathering dust. They were my summer of ‘98.
sweet trainers
Me, posing next to my sweet bicycle around the park at the back of my house. Sporting the sweet Spice Girls shoes, never looked happier since I don’t think.
Word on the grapevine is that I am actually named after Baby Spice herself, Emma Bunton.
still going strong
not as strong as this tank though
The trainers became a massive part of my life, would wear them everywhere, even on top of tanks. I don’t know why I am sitting on a tank. Just goes to show how cool I was in those trainers.
SPICE
The Spice Girls continued to dominate my life in more ways than the trainers ever could, the endless albums and posters that my sister had on her wall, the never ending renditions of ‘Wannabe’ she would recite with her friends and the constant reminder that if I wanted to be anyone’s lover, I had to in fact ‘get with their friends’ was just the pinnacle. Yet the shoes were beginning to get too worn to be used daily, thinking that this was the end of the world for me, my sister and mother introduced me into the ‘two pairs’ policy. The start of things to come.
THE END OF THE SPICE TRAINER. THE BIRTH OF THE NIKE.
sweet horse
sweet sweet trainers
Myself, posing on a Rover with a horse nearby, celebrating the ‘second pair’.
I had no idea what Nike was at the time. I noticed that my sister had clothing that featured the famous ‘tick’ logo, and that she and my mother had a (sweet) Nike collection, but at the time it meant nothing to me. The last thing I wanted to do was to buy another pair of trainers that would replace my beloved Spice Girls pair, and was in the foulest mood going. We went out, I pointed at a pair, we (my mother) bought the trainers and we went home, that was that. The next day we went out for a drive after picking up my sister from school and I was trying my hardest to not look too pleased, but oh my god the shoes were amazing. Since then I have never looked back on a pair of Nikes in negative light, and having the choice of which to wear on a daily basis opened my mind to endless (sort of) outfit combinations. Although the outfit choice on the previous page was not my doing.
TWO PAIRS OF TRAINERS
HAPPY BALEBELA :)
The notion of having more than one pair of something became into a luxury, other than underwear and the other essentials I had double of, footwear was the most exciting. The choice wasn’t much, but to me it made me feel like an adult, making footwear decisions based on the weather was the height of my adulthood. The problem was, I didn’t have my own access of money, that came from my mother, who had more important things to spend money on than endless pairs of trainers for her daughter. I understood completely, and would actually like to thank my mum and sister right now for even buying any of my clothing, toys and footwear, thanks guys. xx
Then I got my own source of disposable income. Then the penny dropped. It took my mum seconds for it to click, and myself probably a few weeks. I could buy trainers again. Two pairs Balebela was back in the game.
THE BEGINNING OF DISPOSABLE INCOME. THAT’S PRETTY MUCH IT.
It wasn’t money coming out of my ears, I was very forunate to have some kind of spare money left over from the shit paper round I did back at school, but yeah, I felt like Rick Ross. Just not as sweaty and my boobs weren’t as big.
I was in Year 10, my school uniform dominated my daily wear, so the trainers would be prestine. Just a shame I bought some of the worst pairs but hey, learn from mistakes and that.
I wasn’t stupid with spending either, managed to save some away and was even beginning to help out with the food shop. However, it was fair to say that 89% of the money went to shoes, and I was owning at least 12 pairs before college. Which according to my mother was outrageous. But I thought was fucking amazing.
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winning
Was safe to say that I was loving life. I got another job working in a Chinese Restaurant with some mates as well during college, but I had enough pairs to have me lasting the whole two years of being a student Graphic Designer. I had some cares in the world, but what was on my feet wasn’t one of them. I had that one covered. For a bit anyway.
As a group of friends in college, most of us had managed to get jobs and would pursue in travels across England with whatever pennies we had, searching for the best shopping centers, the cheekiest Nando finds* and most importantly, a shop that would sell myself some sweet trainers. *I would like to point out now rather than later, that in no way can a Nando’s be cheeky. It has no personality, it isn’t alive, it’s dead, hence why you’re eating it. Just stop. Thanks.
this photo was taken minutes after leaving Bristol, and as soon as we found seats on the train, I was that trainer thirsty
alright stare
Some of my friends weren’t as fussed about getting trainers as I was at the time (here’s Sam scowling at me on the left, now he loves shoe shopping). Yet the trait soon began to rub off on them, I felt like I was in heaven, being on the brink of the start of my design studies, chilling with mates and wearing sweet trainers. Also getting never ending stares like this from Sam. Still do.
In the midst of youth and the glamour of drinking Strongbow cans in some girls hot tub with my best mates, I got more and more involved in the design course in college and enrolled to spend another year there learning more about Art and Design. My shoes were just as unprepared as I was. They soon got ruined, covered in paint and glue so that every time I took a step it sounded like a soundboard you would normally get on a keyboard in music class. It was super shit. I was down to about three pairs, one of which included the Adidas Nizza’s on the previous double page spread, that got so damaged the heel was hanging by a thread (literally) which during the rain would get my whole foot wet, thus making me feel like I was Bear Grylls. The course was fun, but I put it first meaning that most of my money was then going on supplies and on lunch. Lame. Vans 3 pairs - Ruined. Nike Blazer high tops - Ruined. Vans Vulcanized black - Ruined.
safe
Even in my worst times, I would be in short distance of a pair of trainers. This example comes from a friends house party back in the summer of 2012. I was in a very bad way and was struggling to look forward, let alone control the pigmentation of my eyes (they were bright red and looked terrible). A pair of trainers on the right was my only vice, a helpful friend if you may. Giving me guidance. In reality this wasn’t really the case. Those shoes were my getaway. Sick then run. No drama, no questions. They were soaking wet from a wine shower and were colder than the soul of Anne Robinson but they did the job well.
In my first year of college I had 12 pairs. Second year I was down to 7. Third year I had 3. THREE. -Vans Crayola Auethentic purple -Vans Auethentic white -Vans Auethentic black and white -Vans Auethentic red -Vans Auethentic all black -Vans Vulcanized all black -Vans Vulcanized black and white -Vans Old Skool grey leather -Vans Auethentic blue and black -Adidas Nizza low white -Nike Blazer high top burgundy -Converse low all black
Now in my second year of University, and all have gone.
The introduction into online shopping. Urban Outfitters are plebs.
Before university, I had never bought a pair of shoes online, as I didn’t trust the fit and wasn’t 100% on the whole idea. It wasn’t until I realized that I was too lazy to go out and buy some face to face in a shop that I thought I would give it a go. It was January. It was cold. It wasn’t like I was going to go crazy or anything. And in minutes I managed to buy 2 pairs on sale for £70. My mother said that when I was in university that I could go and buy trainers AS LONG AS they were at least on sale or less that £50 maximum. So technically I did. This was probably the first time since I owned those Spice Girls trainers back in ‘98 that I was given approval to buy more, even though I had a budget. So, in true Balebela spirit, I did.
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Some could call it being lazy, but I preferred to see it as finding God. Snatching sweet trainers and sweet deals was so sweet not even a dentist could control the situation. I felt amazing, and since then I have not stopped looking at trainer websites, attempting to build up the collection I once had 5 years ago, but this time of a better contrast and of higher quality. The problem was looming sooner than I had first anticipated, and already I was heading down a downward spiral. My student loan comes in, I spend it, done. Yet spending most of it during the first term and not thinking about the other weeks in between payments was my first back fall, the second being going back to my old job to claim back some more money so that I wasn’t succumbed to being a 24/7 halls hermit. I learned my lesson the hard way, but the best way. My mother and sister knew this would happen, and that it did. Thanks for not saying anything guys.
Thank you, size. co.uk
NIKE PEGASUS ‘83 REEBOK ERS 1500
The trainers that I had purchased, and the images used when I was browsing them. Still have them to do this day. Condition isn’t the same.
A friend from home told me that once you find an online retailer that treats your order well and you find good products in, you’re pretty much winning. And I was. To me, SIZE.CO.UK was the holy grail, they were informing me everything about my order, from the details to when it finally got delivered, nothing got missed. They were like that needy other half that always wanted you to know that they were still there.
URBAN OUTFITTERS THOUGH, THEY CAN LICK MY
I hadn’t bought a pair for the rest of the first year, and gave myself a plan to not do so until the start of second year. I had a lot of money and plans to save up for, and needed some sort of miracle. Then I got one. Landed a sweet job at a shop called TIGER, and earned some good money that would make Alan Sugar look like a chump. I was so excited, that the minute they told me that I managed to become a member of their team, I bought an impulse buy on a pair of shoes. Urban Outfitters sale, mind.
I purchased a pair of Nike Roshe Runs (in a neon green/yellow and grey colour way), in the sale that Urban Outfitters had featured on their website, in the middle of a lecture. I had exactly the amount that the shoes cost in my bank balance, and enough food to not last me until my next pay... but that was fine. They were, and still are the comfiest trainers that I have worn since the ‘99 Nikes and the ‘98 Spice Girls shoes. Urban Outfitters were distant with their emails, and the only email I received was detailing that the trainers had been delivered and that was that.
I thought I was riding a beautifully crested wave, filled with trainers and laces and love. Then Urban Outfitters defecated all over that. Recently I thought that after Christmas I could ride the blessed crested wave again, yet I was too hopeful. I went through the same procedure, yet instead of gaining three more pairs of trainers, I’ve gained nothing but a massive hatred for Urban Outfitters and I think that everyone who I’ve spoken to on the phone who bullshitted me about my trainers not being cancelled are mean. Basically, I had no emails detailing my orders, and when I did they said they would be dispatched in a week...when in reality the order was cancelled on the next day. I found out two weeks later after being told nothing that the orders have been stopped, and that was it.
URBAN OUTFITTERS ARE FORGETFUL PRUNES.
Sub-consciously drawing out trainers that I would like to have in between design hand-ins. Normal? Normal.
The trainer collection that I used to once own has now completeley gone, but now being in the finacial situation where I could start it again, I have set myself a task to do so, to prove myself I can, and be ‘sensible’ with it, but to have fun as well. This year (midway through second year), I am now determined to start again, and not finish...until my mother either manages my money or cuts off my fingers so I can never online shop again. Either way, i’d be upset. The idea is to keep going, and not feel guilty about it. Be sensible. Have fun. Enjoy the process. Not feel like shit.
The 5th pair of current collection, still going strong.
I made this publication to document the beginning of my trainer obsession, but to also prove to myself that I shouldn’t feel guilty for having/ wanting to start my collection back up. As long as I back myself up, I should be fine. My mum knew this, but wanted me to find out for myself, so thanks mum. Kathy too. Urban Outfitters can go do themselves for a bit. :(