I can imagine being paid to travel the world or read for days researching the perfect name for a new shoe brand, product, or service.
This is what Phil Knight did in the early 60s. He travelled the world from South East Asia through the Middle East, and North Africa, to Southeastern Europe, particularly Greece, where he encountered the Goddess of Victory bent at the knee adjusting her shoe.
60 years later, the Goddess of Victory Nike has influenced leagues of the world’s most decorated athletes.
I wonder, are the brands named in this manner literally spellbound by their origins?
This is the Nihomano ‘Buoyantly Transformer Straight’ from the company’s Buoyantly Transformer series.
The shoe is a trifecta of culture combining Hawaiian seaside roots, Japanese philosophy, and Italian shoe craftsmanship.
They are hand-made, in Italy, and I believe it for no other reason than they feel like swords. The sneakers series has a resemblance to Popeye.
Since it’s inception ten years ago, the brand has been on the quest to "rebuild the man as the key factor" in the machine-besieged city of ashoemakin' trusted with a supply of high-end material until his craftsmanship frees the people.
What does a man need whenever he wants to take back control? A great story and limiting supply.
The Nihomano shoes concept is the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, which centres on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. Imperfection the shoes suffer from in the artisan process (the old Opanca construction of moulding vero cuoio or real leather); scratches, the hammer blows and the abrasions.
At the end of a day’s work, their cheapest shoe is around 7 million UgShs (USD 1,794).
I’m not commenting on the price because they obviously serve a high-end clientele.
While browsing their extraordinary website, it crossed my mind that the ultimate value for money they can give their wealthy clientele is to cease production.
I imagine that the final boss move for a Nihomano shoe collector or buyer is saying, "This is one of the only six Nihomano handmade shoes that exist today/were ever made."
That way, the business itself obeys the philosophy of wabi-sabi while the shoes gain more value, and nature heals those wounds where production hurt her.
(This is in the case of genuine material because these "ancient" concepts and philosophies have been exploited for gain where cheap material is used to scam people. Especially that "acceptance of transience and imperfection" could be used to give people low value products while insisting that the "real value" is in the philosophy.)
Could this be a genuine marketing move, where the company, after producing 35,000 shoes for 20 or 30 years, breaks off for a specific period, say 272 years, and lets the buyers enjoy that privilege? It would be so cool, though.
"After 272 years, your great grandfather’s shoe collection is getting a revamp. Nihomano is resuming its slated production of 35,000 shoes over the next 20 years in 3 days at exactly 1500 hours. God help us all."
~ A headline reads in 2346.
On the other hand, it could be just that.
Stop production, which leads to a boost in the shoe’s sentimental value. In the true form of this philosophy, this leads to two outcomes:
- A new market of collectors opens up, who are willing to pay for the added value. At the same time, those people who wish to instil some form of tradition or lesson in the shoes (after all, the philosophy or lesson is the only permanent and perfect thing) for their families can do so.
- The second and opposite outcome is the rise of the market of thieves (their twin reflection is cheap material ‘trojaned’ in the philosophy).
However, in wabi-sabi, there are no thieves, just impermanence (which thieves represent) and acceptance of imperfection; the imperfection on your shelf where your prized shoe was, the imperfection of the thief, and imperfection in your bank account where you spent and lost still.
Let’s go have a drink in the Inn below. We’re meeting someone there, too.
On the inside I’m hot and cold
You’re one of many temporary stops
I’ll be on my way
You make it hard to leave
You turn my stop into stay with a simple hey
I will go on with my will to live
When I remember I’m not starting over but continuing
You’re pulling me Inn...
"What can I get you?"
"Get us two cold ones. I’m looking for someone called Nihomano."
"What?"
"Nihomano."
"I don’t know anyone called Shark’s Tooth."
Confused stare...
"Wait, that’s what Nihomano means?"
"Well, yes. It’s a Hawaiian word meaning Shark’s Tooth. But it’s also my name. Or rather my alias," a voice says from a corner.
A man dressed in a sleek, slim-cut suit sits cross-legged by the only window of the inn. He’s slim but manages to fill the two-seater. His blue trousers are pushed above his ankles, showing mustard socks uncreased in polished leather shoes. His posture screams refinement and sophistication.
A buyer.
"I’m a collector. I travel looking for Nihomano shoes. There’s a rumour that in their last production, they made the last and only pair in the Origami series. I would like to have it," he continues, gesturing with glinting cufflinks to the seat opposite his.
"How much are you buying?"
He grins, showing a sharp artificial silver tooth . The collar of his crisp shirt falls out of sync with the jacket lapels as he unbuttons it.
“Who said anything about buying?"