IT’S BETTER WITH CHEDDAR
NikeLab consultant Luis “Cheddar” Alcala has the line on hard to find sneakers By Jason R. Latham / Portrait by Anthony Tahlier It’s Wednesday afternoon at the Ross Dress for Less in Riverfront Plaza, and Luis “Cheddar” Alcala is treasure hunting. “I go looking for shoes in the craziest places,” he says, moving from aisle to aisle. Alcala, one of Chicago’s most venerated sneakerheads, is here to unearth some hidden gems—shoes that went unnoticed by the buying public before ending up on the shelves of the discount retailer. “There’s so many [sneaker] releases that come out that people don’t see,” he says. “If there’s not a good push behind it, I can pick it up, put it on Instagram, and give it some limelight.” A three-hour search produces one find: a pair of 2018 Nike Air Max Plus with an aqua blue design, zebralike black-to-purple stripe and a black-and-white midsole. It’s a $60 purchase, but future value is what matters. Sneakers are a lifestyle in Chicago, part of a $55 billion global industry with a scorching secondary market in which rare collections have fetched as much as $850,000 at Sotheby’s. Alcala’s eye for recognizing rare and undervalued footwear is one reason he carries so much clout in the same city where Michael Jordan launched his iconic Nike partnership and streetwear gurus such as Don C and Diego Ross are revered as celebrities. 26 slmag.net
“Chicago is very blue collar, but we’re very fashionable people,” he says. “Everything you see that’s hot, the way people talk, the way people dress, it’s Chicago-based. Guys like us are important because we tell the story.” “You Got a Lotta Cheddar” Growing up in the golden age of Jordan’s Bulls, the young Alcala would bike through town, hitting up Foot Locker and Diana Shoes (now Dream Town Shoes) to watch fans line up for the latest Air Jordan release. His first pair was the Air Jordan “Carmine” 6, a thrift store find and gift from his mother. “She thrifted ’em for me,” Alcala recalls. “They were a year old, ’92, and Nike was already on the Jordan 7. I was 10, and it was such a big deal for me.” Fast forward to high school, when a car accident netted Alcala a $4,500 settlement. He rushed to the mall with his uncle and picked up 10 new pairs of sneakers. At the cash register, the sales associate took one look and said, “You got a lotta cheddar, man.” Alcala’s uncle chimed in, “That’s his name, Cheddar.” The moniker stuck, and by forging connections with store owners who would sell him rare and soon-to-be-released stock, “Cheddar” became known as “the dude who gets things early.”
