Chicago's Sneaker Hustle: How Teenage Sneakerheads Are Getting Ahead
By: Michelle Kim, Aaron Xuandi Wang, Stephanie Zhu
Wearing a White Sox jersey and blue jeans,a backpack slung across his shoulders, Angel Melendez is an unassuming guy, aside from the Obsidian Air Jordan 12s on his feet. Only a trained eye could catch the subtle hype of his outfit.
Melendez is just one of the throng of CTA train passengers making their way downtown on a Thursday afternoon.
One would never guess there was a pair of sneakers he was about to sell for over $900 snuggled in his school bag under layers of shirts and newspapers.
Melendez, a self-proclaimed sneakerhead from Humboldt Park in Chicago’s West Side, is obsessed with collecting, trading and reselling footwear. He follows the latest trends, spots the releases of limited-edition shoes and monitors fluctuations in their market value. The deadstock, or unworn, sneakers tucked inside his backpack, Nike Air Jordan’s newest collaboration with rapper Travis Scott, dropped online for $175 on April 30. A week later, the resale prices skyrocketed due to their immense popularity and limited stock – almost six times higher than the price Melendez paid.
Often portrayed as materialistic and only in it for the hype, some sneakerheads camp out in front of retail stores for days in order to snag the latest pair of shoes. Melendez, however, along with some other Chicago teenagers, is different; they don’t wear expensive sneakers to show off.
“You want to be subtle,” says Melendez. “You don’t want to pop out.”
Display of coveted Nike sneakers at DTLR VILLA shoe store in Chicago. Image via Michelle Kim
Today’s sneaker culture has its roots in Chicago, with the city’s vibrant hip-hop movement and basketball mania, according to Leigha, 21, a shop assistant at sneaker resale store Boneyard Chicago. It all started in 1985, when Nike and then Chicago Bulls player, Michael Jordan, released his first signature shoes Air Jordan 1. The basketball legend’s massive fanbase along with the shoes’ limited production built up the sneaker’s hype, contributing to a $100 million sale within the first 10 months.
“I'm from Chicago, so seeing Michael Jordan and all those shoes is something you're a part of,” says Leigha.
However, the cult-like following of Air Jordans has led to unfortunate, and sometimes fatal, cases of shoe-jacking. Around 1,200 people die over sneakers each year, according to a documentary by GQ.
“Some people rob you depending on what area you're in and what you're wearing, because some [shoes] symbolize money,” says Melendez.
Besides the value of their expensive footwear, teenage sneakerheads from Chicago need to be aware of the colorways of the shoes they sport.
The white and blue Cortez, another popular Nike shoe, has been incorporated into the uniform of the gang MS-13, according to Fox 32 Chicago. Police often assume that anyone wearing these specific shoes is affiliated with MS-13.
Melendez has a pair of Air Jordan 1s with a blue and black colorway. But he barely wears it in his neighborhood due to the colorways’ association with a gang.
“There are a lot of stories about people being misinterpreted for gang members,” says Melendez. “I don’t want to be that person just because of a fashion choice I make.”
Customers try their luck on the Key Master in hopes of winning a pair of limited edition sneakers. Each attempt is $1, and some prizes are worth a couple hundred dollars. Image via Aaron Wang
Online resale websites provide a safe alternative for both buyer and seller, with sellers shipping their stock directly to their customers.
Trading sites like eBay and StockX boost the sneaker’s secondary market into a $1 billion business. The once lucrative resale market is now saturated with teenagers due to the accessibility of resale websites and apps.
Melendez has been reselling sneakers as a side hustle since his freshman year of high school. His first resale experience was when he spent his birthday money on Air Jordan 11 “Columbia,” a pair of limited edition shoes that were gleaming white with icy blue accents, and resold it to a schoolmate for $40 more than what he originally paid for.
He used the profit to install a basketball hoop in his backyard so he could “get [his] younger brothers into basketball.”
Melendez has since invested in the sneaker business, constantly checking shoes’ release dates and entering various online raffles. His favorite pair that he won is Nike’s Air Max collab with artist Sean Wotherspoon. Melendez wanted to keep the shoes, but the “money talks” and he resold them for a $600 profit.
“It gives me a little bit of comfort with my money,” Melendez said. “[The profits] can help me out financially in the next week or two.”
This is a common motivator for many teenage sneakerheads, looking for more than just attention.
With extra cash on their hands, these young sneakerheads are not only using it to fuel their next purchases but also saving up with a goal in mind.