I grew up 50 miles west of metro Boston in a city called Worcester, MA. Just to clarify, Worcester is not a suburb of Boston in the literal proximity sense, or in the “green grass & white picket fence” sense of the word. My hometown was the stereotypical urban experience that would either sharpen your sword and harden your armor – or break you down if it got the best of you.

Elementary school is when I began to take notice to what the older guys in my neighborhood were wearing. They became the bar and were clearly influenced by hip-hop culture, which was the native language of my 4-block radius. Inner city Boston was notoriously known for their loyalty to the trefoil and that radiated up the Mass Pike through friends, family or visits to the nearest “big” city.

The swoosh’s stronghold wasn’t fully developed yet and it was a common occurrence when an older brother or cousin would try to deter you (sometimes with threats and intimidation) away from anything that didn’t bear 3 diagonal stripes secured to its sides. My first memories of A-Dogs (a Boston term for adidas way back) were the obvious Superstar popularity of the early and mid-80s. As much as I appreciated the shell toe it really didn’t move me – I wore them but was one step outside of the age group that really wore them.

Like any northeastern city, there was a hustling and drug dealing culture that fueled the neighborhood’s fashion sense. Dealers were decked in the latest and greatest regardless of the price tag. The one shoe that was introduced to me as a direct result of this illegal fashion show was the adidas Forum, a basketball shoe that was applied to a street life uniform even when worn hanging out at the schoolyard courts.

One day, around 1990-91 (estimated – hard to know at this point) I noticed some hustlers wearing what seemed to be high Forums that were a tonal navy blue with a “crest” embroidery on the ankle and tongue. A small detail that might have went otherwise unnoticed by most people – but to me they epitomized hood luxury at an unheard of hundred some odd dollars at retail. I was instantly infatuated with the shoe, mostly for what this shoe represented – elevated status.

“Yo, peep! Homie’s shoes have the “net” on the side. Crazy official.”

A German sneaker designed for American basketball took on a new meaning. To the street runner it meant showcasing an expensive taste because you had the billfold afford it. To me it represented a better life – one hardly achieved with footwear choices, but one inspired by someone else’s.

The all-so-mysterious “crest” Forum was just a faint memory of a snot-nosed handball court rat. When the opportunity presented itself to work with adidas on a project, all I could think about was this shoe – a shoe that no one remembered. I did, though, and with a mission I asked a few hard-core vintage adidas collectors and before long, my “Holy Grail” sneakers were in my hands. Maybe they were a little dusty or visibly aged but they still represented the “status” that was once imagined by a kid a couple decades ago.

I took that twenty something year old pair of shoes and this very testimony and boarded a flight to Portland Oregon, headed to adidas North American HQ for the pitch of all pitches. Trying to rework retro’d shoe silhouettes is one situation but trying to resurrect an obsolete version of a legendary model takes some convincing (and some balls).

After a few color options, material library visits, “crest” graphics and samples, the dream has come full circle.

Lead, Cardinal & Black.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and still do.