by Nike’s for Tyler in Manchester, England
Dear Santa,
My name is Tyler and I am eleven years old. I live in Manchester, England, where it rains approximately three hundred days a year, my mum says I am obsessed with trainers, and my dad says the same thing about Manchester City but nobody says anything to him about it.
Dear Tyler, your father has identified a double standard and chosen to live inside it rather than examine it. This is a very adult decision and he should not be surprised when you make the same one about the trainers. Welcome to the human condition. It smells like fresh box and rain.
Santa, I need to talk to you about Nike. Specifically, I need to talk to you about which Nike trainers you think I should ask for, because this is the most important decision of my year and possibly my life and I have been going back and forth about it since September and I am running out of time and my mum says I need to make up my mind because she cannot be expected to track drop dates on her own phone like some kind of sneaker journalist.
Your mother did not sign up to be a sneaker journalist. Nobody does. They simply find themselves refreshing the SNKRS app at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday wondering where their life went. I respect her. I also understand the difficulty of your situation and I will do my best to help, because footwear decisions of this magnitude deserve North Pole-level consultation.
Here is my problem, Santa. There are too many Nikes. When my grandad was young he says there were about four trainers and you just picked one and got on with it. Now there are approximately nine thousand and they all have numbers and letters in the name and some of them have a little bubble at the bottom and some of them have a big bubble and some of them have a strap where the laces should be which I don’t understand but apparently that is very important.
Your grandfather grew up in a simpler era and he is correct that there were fewer options, which made choosing easier but also meant that everyone at school was wearing the same four trainers, which created its own problems. Progress giveth and progress taketh away. The bubble, for what it is worth, is Air cushioning technology, and it was genuinely revolutionary when Nike introduced it in 1978. Whether it remains revolutionary or has simply become a status symbol wrapped in foam is a philosophical question that Nike’s marketing department prefers not to discuss at length.
Santa, here is my shortlist. I need your honest opinion.
Option one: Nike Air Max 90. My cousin Marcus has these and they look brilliant and he says they are comfortable but Marcus also says a lot of things that turn out to be wrong, including that he could eat an entire Greggs sausage roll in one bite, which he could not.
The Air Max 90 is a classic. It was released in 1990, which means it is older than your parents’ first date and has somehow remained relevant through every trend cycle since. This is a rare achievement. The shoe is comfortable, well-made, and understood by multiple generations, which means your dad will know what they are without needing an explanation, and your grandad will either nod approvingly or ask why you paid that much for something with a hole in the bottom. Regarding Marcus: the sausage roll incident should have been a warning sign for all future Marcus-based research.
Option two: Nike Air Force 1. My best mate Jaylen has these in white and they look dead clean but he also cannot keep them white because we live in Manchester and it rains all the time and within about four days they looked like he’d been doing gardening in them.
The Air Force 1 is the best-selling Nike shoe in history, which is either an argument for or against getting them depending on how you feel about owning the same shoe as approximately eighty million other people. They are also, as Jaylen has discovered, white. White trainers in Manchester are a philosophical statement about optimism in the face of impossible conditions. They are beautiful for a brief window of time and then they are not. This is also true of many things worth having.
Option three: Nike Air Max 270. These have the biggest bubble and my friend Demi says they look like you are walking on a bowl of jelly, which she meant as a criticism but honestly I think sounds quite good.
Demi is describing the 270’s defining feature with more accuracy than most reviews manage. The Air unit in the heel is the largest Nike has ever put in a lifestyle shoe. Whether this is engineering or architecture depends on how seriously you take footwear. The 270 is comfortable to a degree that some people find almost suspicious. It is also quite large, which in Manchester’s wet conditions means your foot stays dry slightly longer than in a shoe with a more modest sole, which is perhaps the most genuinely useful thing I can tell you.
Option four: Nike Dunk Low. Everyone at school has these now. My mum says that is a reason not to get them. My dad says that is a reason everyone at school has them. I am stuck in the middle of this argument and nobody has asked how I feel.
The Dunk Low is currently at the peak of its cultural moment, which means it is either exactly the right time to get them or just past it depending on which week you are asking. Your mum is operating on the logic of individuality. Your dad is operating on the logic of social cohesion. Both are reasonable. You, Tyler, are operating on the logic of wanting nice trainers, which is the most honest position in the room and the one nobody is acknowledging. For what it is worth: a shoe that everyone has because everyone likes it is not a bad shoe. It is a popular one. These are different things.
Santa, which one should I ask for?
I will give you a proper answer because you asked a proper question. The Air Max 90 is the correct choice for Manchester. Here is why. It is built for actual weather, not just photographs. It has a sole that handles wet pavements without turning into a liability. It comes in colourways that do not require you to carry a cleaning kit. It has been respected for thirty-five years, which means you will not look back at a photo in four years and feel embarrassed. And it is not trying too hard, which in Manchester is considered a virtue in footwear as in most things. The Air Force 1 is beautiful but impractical for your climate. The 270 is correct but enormous. The Dunk Low you can get later when everyone else has moved on and the resale price has dropped to something sensible. Get the 90.
I also have some follow-up questions.
What trainers do the elves wear?
Workshop-specific footwear with reinforced toe caps and non-slip soles rated for mixed surfaces including gift wrap, wooden floors, and the area near the reindeer barn, which presents its own unique hazards. One elf attempted to introduce Yeezys to the workshop floor in 2021. There was a safety review. The Yeezys did not pass.
Has a reindeer ever worn shoes?
Blitzen wore reindeer booties during the 2019 ice storm over Greenland for traction purposes. He has asked me never to mention this. I have now mentioned it. We will have words.
What does Santa wear on his feet?
Black boots, traditional, leather, resoled approximately every forty years. I was offered a sponsorship deal by a major footwear company in 2003 which I declined on the grounds that appearing in a trainer advert would raise questions about the North Pole’s charitable status that our legal team was not prepared to answer.
Do the reindeer have a preferred brand?
Dasher has opinions about hoof care products that I will not dignify with further detail. Rudolph once appeared in a Nike campaign concept that someone at an agency pitched internally. Nike declined. Rudolph has never fully recovered from this.
My mum says trainers are a waste of money and I should ask for something practical. What do you think?
Your mum is right that practical things matter. She is also wearing something on her feet right now that she chose partly because she liked how it looked, and I think if you asked her about it calmly and without the energy of someone who is about to win an argument, she might admit that wanting nice shoes is not the most unreasonable thing a person can want. Trainers that fit well, last long, and make you feel good about walking into a room are not entirely impractical. Tell her Santa said so. She may not find this persuasive. Try it anyway.
Thank you for reading my letter, Santa. My mum checked the spelling. She said my questions were very specific. I told her that is because the issue is very specific.
Your mum is right. Your questions were very specific. So is the answer. Air Max 90. Size up half a size if you are between sizes because the toe box runs slightly narrow and Manchester is not a city that forgives uncomfortable footwear. Merry Christmas, Tyler. Stay dry. Mind the puddles. And tell Jaylen that white Air Force 1s in Greater Manchester are an act of faith, not a fashion choice, and he should be proud of every scuff.
Merry Christmas, Santa.
Your friend,
Tyler James Booth
Manchester, England
P.S. If you could also bring me a rain jacket that would be brilliant. Not instead of the trainers. As well as.
Noted. The jacket is a sensible addition and I respect the clarity of “as well as.” You have prioritised correctly. The trainers go on first. The jacket goes over everything else. This is, in fact, also good life advice.
