Those $399 gold Trump sneakers are much more than just shoes
Of all the merchandise promoted by former president and current presidential candidate Donald J. Trump and associated entities in recent months – the gold (chocolate) bars, the winesthe superhero NFTs – is all more Trumpian than the $399 Never give up on sneakers unveiled last weekend at Sneaker Con in Philadelphia? They are like a roadmap for Trump's value system and electoral strategy in tailoring.
Gilded high tops as gleaming as Mar-a-Lago chandeliers, they feature an ankle-wrapping American flag like the forest of flags that spring up behind Trump as he takes the stage. They have red soles to match his signature red ties (and the flag) and perhaps as a sly nod to Christian Louboutins and the semiology of luxury shoes. There's also a large 'T' embossed on the side and tongue.
While they are “bold, gold and cool, just like President Trump,” according to the Trump sneakers website, allowing potential owners to “be a part of history,” they have zero technical performance features. Although they have a shape similar to the Nike Air Force 1s (get it? Air Force One!), they are unapologetic imitations of the original.
It is tempting to dismiss the offer as mere flash and marketing with little substance. That is what Michael Tylera spokesperson for the Biden campaign, did so, saying: “Donald Trump showing up at Hawk Bootleg Off-Whites is the closest he will ever get to Air Force Ones for the rest of his life.”
Or to think of them as Mr. Trump's answer to the Biden campaign's TikTok presence: an attempt to associate itself with the cool that is embedded in the very idea of sneaker culture, not to mention the energy and athleticism that the 'Just Do It' model implies. Despite the fact that Mr. Trump himself almost never wears a sneaker or does much exercise.
Yet the merchandising of the moment is more dangerous than it seems at first glance.
There's been a lot of eye-rolling since the sneakers' debut, and jokes are being made about the fact that, given the millions of dollars in The fines imposed on Mr. Trump in his various civil cases mean he has to make more money somewhere. And there was a lot of attention for that the boos that lived up to his performance at Sneaker Con. (To be fair, the sneakerhead community isn't the market for the kicks, because there's nothing original about them; it's the MAGA market.)
It's easy to get distracted by the sheer absurdity of it all: a former president selling sneakers!
There are so many ways in which Mr. Trump has challenged the norms of the presidential system that such merchandise seems like the least of the matter. What is selling NFTs with pieces of a mugshot suit compared to the charges that necessitated the mugshot? What is offering $99 Victory47 cologne in a gold bottle with a gold Trump head as a stopper (another product available on the sneaker website) compared to offering to throw NATO allies at Russia like little pieces of red meat? Moreover, it is realistically impossible that the sneakers will provide Trump World with a major financial boost.
The sneakers are made by a company known as 45Footwear LLC and are not officially “designed, manufactured, distributed or sold by Donald J. Trump, the Trump Organization, or any of their respective affiliates or principals,” according to a disclaimer on the sneaker . website. That company licenses Trump's name and image from someone who receives a call CIC Ventures LLC, which happens to have the same address as the Trump International Golf Club in West Palm Beach, Florida. Trump's sneaker website looks a lot like the Trump NFT website, and like that arrangement, Mr. Trump will most likely receive licensing fees. He did present the sneakers himself at Sneaker Con.
Despite the fact that the website claimed on Sunday that the 1,000 pairs of numbered Never Surrender sneakers had sold out, leaving the slightly less exciting T-Red cherry knit sneaks and Potus 45 white knit sneakers available for $199 each, it's hard to say imagine a circumstance where the shoes provide a meaningful source of income.
What they offer is something different.
Like Mr. Trump's tendency to turn every court appearance into a form of entertainment that can be used as a campaign, his attempt to commercialize his legal peril is a long-term strategic play. By reducing his charges to a slogan about a consumer good, he diminishes their seriousness.
It's a form of insidious trivialization, the kind of tactic that fits perfectly into the landscape of late-stage capitalism, where everything is a commodity for sale. Oh, those old federal charges? They are not serious; they are a style choice. He transforms charges into accessories, a language that everyone speaks. The more products he sells, the more he makes fun of his situation. That's where the real profit lies.