“Quintessence” is not a word that usually pops up in casual conversation. It was first used in the 15th century to describe the highest element in medieval philosophy. In those times, quintessence was thought to be something beyond the essential elements of earth, air, fire, and water. It’s what medieval man thought the stars and planets were made of. When we talk about iconic brands, there’s something quintessential about them, too—a quality that’s like a good hit of ether for the consumer soul. That’s why it makes me hopping mad when any brand messes with its own perfection.
Take Converse, for instance. In 1917, they brought to market what has, for more than a hundred years, been the quintessential American sneaker: The Converse All Star. These shoes became known colloquially as “Chuck Taylors.” Converse hired a semi-professional basketball player named Charles H. “Chuck” Taylor to promote their shoe line in 1921. Taylor first came to the company as a player with sore feet, looking for a basketball shoe that was more comfortable on the court. He became one of the first pro athletes in American history to endorse an athletic shoe brand.
In those hundred-plus years, Converse has managed to do some very creative things with that iconic shoe that remained faithful to the spirit of the brand. They’ve collaborated with high-fashion houses like Comme Des Garcon and comic franchises like Marvel. In 2008, they created a special tribute sneaker for fallen rocker and Nirvana founder Kurt Cobain. Prior to his untimely death, Cobain was frequently photographed wearing his beat-up pair of Chuck Taylors.
I’ll couch my rant by saying that fashion—and perhaps especially shoe fashion—is a strange business. And whether you’re a high-end fashion house like Comme Des Garcon or a lower-end peddler of disposable threads (think Old Navy), you’re all about selling more stuff to more people for more money than they paid last season. (Let’s keep this inflation trend going.)
But there’s this thing called “brand dilution,” also known as “excessive brand extension.” It happens when a brand puts out a product that is out of step with its core values—values that Converse (imho) established in 1917 with the All Star. And I hate to pick on one product, but I’m honestly having trouble imagining a brand extension more excessive than a Converse shoe with a high, chunky platform heel. In fact, the whole “platform” idea seems to have gone viral at Converse, with 142 platform styles online for women and (sorry to do this to you) 78 platform styles for men! (Right now I’m picturing Chuck Taylor doing a hesitation dribble in his grave.)
Okay, I’m not a hater. If you’re height-challenged and need the extra inch and a half those platform Chucks provide, you have my blessing. My beef is that this is brand dilution, plain and simple. This is not the Converse brand. Converse All Stars don’t have heels!!! Classics are classics for a reason, and they shouldn’t be messed with. Not now, not ever. The phrase, “What will they think of next?” usually has a positive connotation but in this case, I shudder to think. Converse shoes with roller skates attached? A Converse All Star with uppers made of beef jerky you can snack on, and when the jerky’s all eaten, you lace them up and the shoe becomes some strange kind of sandal?!
Okay, I’m over it. Thanks for listening. I’m gonna put on my beat-up Chucks, go out to the driveway, shoot some hoops, and pretend that this never happened.
