We caught up with Lee Ingram after reading a little bit about his quest for a pair of the Concepts x Asics GLV ‘Phoenix’ and the curse that is following this collab. An amazing story I’m sure you’ll agree so we thought it about time that amazing stories like these made into the world, somewhat of a Sneakernory here on The Word on the Feet and hopefully the first of many. Shouts to Lee for his amazing journey and for his storytelling prowess.
The Curse of the Phoenix
“What the fuck Lee?”, I hear you asking. If you really want to know then read on if you dare, but brace yourself, for what lies ahead is a story of curses from a dark place and the tearful cries of broken dreams.
What you see pictured here in front of you is a brand new, unworn pair of Concepts x Asics GLV ‘Phoenix’. What you may not know is the tragic and cursed past of the mythical shoe. When I first heard tales of the tragic fire at the warehouse that destroyed many of these pairs, I thought it nothing more than a marketing stunt. A quick Google search clarified it to be true. The remaining ‘Phoenix’ pairs rose from the ashes and travelled forth to the United States. There they faced their second cursed act, the flood. These curses saw the ‘Phoenix’ numbers whittled down from thousands to but a few hundred. Then this pair travelled across the seas until it eventually arrived on the Western shores of Australia.
Thinking its hardships faced, it made its way into my hands. I thought myself lucky to hold such a rare pair and so I placed them into the saddlebag of my motorcycle. I was travelling on the Graham Farmer Freeway, doing 120km per hour, when a wind of unnatural force swept across me, snatching the box from my saddlebag and smashing it down onto the freeway. A well timed glance in my side mirror afforded me the opportunity to view the box tumbling along the road behind me. I quickly made my way across 3 lanes of traffic onslaught and pulled into the emergency braking lane.
I turned my bike around and road back slowly, looking for the box. It was then I noticed small pieces of familiar grey and blue card dancing in the wind trails behind the cars. Not a good sign. Then I saw the first shoe as it was run over by a car, and then another. I thought back to my childhood and summoned every skill I had learned from ‘Frogger’ as I dismounted my bike and waited for a break in the traffic before I darted through the deadly metal projectiles that hurtled toward me, horns blazing. I reached down, mid-stride and rescued the first shoe.
It was then I spotted the second shoe, as it was run over by a truck and then another. When the third truck drove over it, I watched as it was sucked up into the engine bay. I ran after the truck as it disappeared up the freeway until I finally saw the lifeless carcass of the ‘Phoenix’ drop from its steel jaws. On my journey back to the bike, with both shoes in hand, I was presented with 3 more challenges, in the form of lace bags. Remnants of the box littered the freeway as I zig-zagged my way through the traffic to collect the laces. Once I had made it back to my bike I thanked The Lord for sparing my life, but questioned why the ‘Phoenix’ must be sacrificed.
So this is what is left of the ‘Phoenix’, its body bent, scarred and blackened. Some say if you go to the freeway at night, you can still hear its box, flapping in the wind. Now I wonder what future lies ahead for this mythical bird. Will it rise from the ashes, or the Jason Markks? Are the curses finally over? If I do wear these shoes will a jet engine mysteriously fall from the sky and crush me, creating an unstable, alternate, parallel universe? Or worse still, summon the Antichrist? Only time will tell.
I had an offer to buy these, but it is something I could not do. If it is my lot to walk in these cursed shoes then so be it, but to pass the curse onto another is something I could never do. I travelled a different route to work today, fearful that the devil or death himself lie in waiting, crouching in the shadows, calling to the shoes to return to the fiery pits from whence they came. As I photographed these today, I swore I heard them whispering to me “Put me on Lee, go on”, tempting me. For now they sit upon a shelf, but soon I shall face my burden and uncover the secret that lies within their pistachio veneer. Perhaps they shall engulf me. Perhaps I will be reborn from their flames. Perhaps I will become death, and ride along the darkened freeway, in search of more soles.
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