Keds!?!

There are several responses one gives when introduced to a new purchase by a shoeaholic girlfriend. More precisely, numerous pronunciations of, "Mmm...".



The first is a genuine 'Mmm', delivered from just behind the tonsils, along the roof of the mouth before departing through natural lips. It is usually accompanied by a head nod, like one of approval that a child makes when they try a new flavour of ice cream and it sinks into their taste buds.


The second "Mmmm", is dragged out, but only by a millisecond so as to avoid unnecessary complications. There is an unavoidable purse of the lips, a natural reflex, but this can be easily hidden by an imaginary itch to your left nostril.


The third "Mmmmm", is dragged out openly so as to arouse complications that to the virgin eye seem very much necessary. It is important however, to keep the bemused look passive, like a chimp, rather than the provocative face expression one uses when listening to someone you don't agree with mid-argument.


When Charlotte pointed a Ked-clad toe in my direction, a splutter and head pulse over rode any possibility of taking the easy second "Mmm" out.


"Keds!?!.....Keds!?!...How...how...cutting edge", I added dryly.


Studying at LCC I have grown accustomed to seeing strange trends resurfacing from different ages (Disco ball man? Remember him?) , but far removed from the world of blue rinses and Horlicks. They made me think of tiny old women in rows, legs swinging from park benches in Eastbourne, Keds in a legion mid air on the end of thick brown tights.


Keds however, are uniting generations. "They're sooo comfortable", has usually been in reference to the simple designs comfort on well-trodden arthritic feet in walking to the Post Office. Not to shopping trips round London, or clubbing in the nightspots of the capital.


Despite my disbelief, Keds are swiftly becoming invisible in their numbers. My girlfriend buys hers from Russel and Bromley (39.99). Numerous replicas ( None in the Grandma favourite blue/grey leather, I hasten to add) are flooding into our high streets - Office, Topman and Size? selling their own brand versions.


A year on from our original conversation and my girlfriend has gone through three pairs. When she returned to the flat excited to have found the much sought after leather pair in a small Russel and Bromley somewhere south of the river, she bats away my critique on Keds durability by pointing at my beloved sneaker collection and reminding me that if it wasn't for Keds they wouldn't exist (Keds were the first sneaker, designed in 1916).


My reaction to her first purchase was one of shock; a year on and I wouldn't be surprised if the divulging, however loose, of the geographical whereabouts of the leather version, starts a Ked-clad stampede over London Bridge.