Custom Chucks
When I first moved to Boston, I was thrilled to discover that Converse was founded and headquartered here. Not only that, but their flagship boutique on Newbury Street features a workshop on the second floor where you can customize a pair of their iconic Chuck Taylors. You can select everything from style, color, grommets, and stitching. You can add studs or spikes. There are fun laces to choose from.
©Converse
But there’s also a massive print booth behind the counter where you can, with the help of a Converse Maestro, print one of their many curated designs onto the side of your shoes. Little iPad stations along the design bar offer an array of images to choose from, including exclusive city-specific artwork from Boston. Like if you want Paul Revere or a map of the MBTA on your kicks, for example.
©Converse
BUT, you can also bring in artwork of your own. Photos, drawings, paintings, sketches, whatever. You bring it, they print it. So long as you own the rights to the image.
As a Converse collector and creative professional, this was now a bucket list item for me. Only I had no idea what I should put on a pair of shoes. I turned over many interesting ideas. I could scan in one of my old Ouija boards. I could draw something. I could take a photo of all my other Converse shoes to put on a new pair of Converse. I could just bring a photo of myself giving two thumbs up like the Fonz. I could put my cat on them.
The possibilities were endless and that fact gave me a permanent creative block. So the idea of custom Chucks sat in the back of my mind for years. At some random point last summer, I was with Mike on Newbury Street and pointed out the custom Converse shop. I told him I’d always wanted to make a pair but had never settled on the idea of what to do. He thought the concept was amazing too, so we proceeded to toss about more ideas for the rest of the afternoon. And then, like before, I never hit upon an idea that I truly loved, so I placed it on the back burner and forgot about it all over again.
Fast forward to Christmas Eve. Mike hands me a small box, inside of which is a gift card for the Converse store and a note to go get my Chucks made. I can’t believe he remembered a random conversation about shoes from the summer. It seemed like such an insignificant topic, a throwaway thought. But I’ve learned that his mind is like a glue trap and he always remembers the tiniest of trivial details. One of the reasons I love him so much.
As we unwrapped the rest of our gifts, we chatted about our upcoming trip to Paris and suddenly I had ideas. Real good ones. Maybe I’ll take a black and white photo of the Eiffel Tower for the shoes! No, too cliche. Maybe I’ll take a photo of a box of rainbow colored macarons! But do I really want a pastel shoe? No. Then I had it. I stood up and announced, “OH MY GOD I’VE GOT IT. I’M GOING TO PUT THE CATACOMBS ON MY CHUCKS!” Sometimes inspiration really does strike like lightning.
From there on, I was on a mission. Seven weeks later I was standing five stories below ground in Paris staring at miles of human skulls. While everyone else was angling for their Instagram pics or death selfie (dealthie?), I was photographing with footwear in mind. I took over 300 photos, but right away I knew I had the shot. It was this one:
I wanted something that captured the layer-cake effect of femurs, skulls, and tibias. Just having a skull on your shoe seemed too simple. Too Hot Topic. I wanted a picture that really encapsulated the sheer scope of an underground maze of skeletons. And I wanted something not just cool, but something special. A moment captured from a once-in-a-lifetime birthday trip to Paris where I crossed off bucket list things. A unique one-of-a-kind souvenir. A shoe that no one else in the world will have. A memory that I could wear around every day.
After returning from France, Mike and I planned a city day to go and make my shoes. On the top floor of the Converse boutique we met with our design maestro, Leah. First we picked out the shoe style. I decided on black-on-black hi-tops, since it was a dark design and I already had a lot of white walled Chucks. Then I emailed the photo file over to her computer and she brought it up on the big monitor above the design station. Using PhotoShop, she mocked up where the design would fall on the show canvas.
As a designer who’s been using PhotoShop for 23 years, it took every ounce of control not to jump over the counter and take over the computer. But I managed to retain self-control and guide her through how I wanted the image positioned. I’m sure I was super annoying. I am sorry, Leah.
We scaled up the photo, rotated it a bit, bumped up the contrast, and desaturated it just enough so it wasn’t going to be a predominantly brown shoe. I also politely asked her if she could manage to position the design so that the grommet goes through the eye of a skull. This is mostly likely the weirdest thing I have ever asked someone and definitely the weirdest thing she’s probably been asked in her job. She said she’d give it her best shot.
I signed the order form and received a two-hour estimate. Mike and I killed the time shopping around the Pru and exploring the newly opened Eataly complex. While we walked around, I wondered if the design would come out. I worried that the shoe fabric was too dark. I stressed the details and considered the possibility that I’d made a mistake with the design and I’d have to waste my gift certificate on a flubbed shoe. I hoped and prayed that it came out okay.
We returned to Converse promptly at the 120-minute mark to find Leah pulling my shoes out of the print booth. The shoes were not okay. THEY WERE FUCKING AWESOME. I actually squealed with delight and relief. Since the shoes were black canvas and the catacombs picture dark, she had laid down a layer of white ink first to make the photograph pop off the fabric. The final result was crisp and clear! The design laid beautifully over the canvas. AND she managed to get one grommet hold perfectly within an eye socket. I could not be happier.
Exterior-facing side.
Interior-facing side.
Another store employee came over to help as she cleaned up the edges of the rubber and laced them up. I asked what other people put on their custom shoes. “Dogs. We see a lot of dog photos.”
I thanked Leah profusely for her talent in making my new favorite shoes. And I thanked Mike for making my footwear dreams come true. We carried my new shoes down to the cash register to be boxed up. On the way, two associates stopped us to ask if I was the one with the skulls. “Those are badass!” said one guy. I held them up for view. Yes. Yes they are.
