If you don’t already know the history and lore behind the black Air Force 1s, then allow me to give you background of this cultural phenomena that is equal parts terror and mystique. It should be noted that it’s an experience that has not infiltrated the psyche of other nations. Like craft breweries, baseball, apple pie, and the K*K, it’s uniquely American. So what exactly is “dark Air Force 1 energy”?
Well, for starters, no sane person in America has ever worn black Air Force 1s. Not a single one. That is a fact. (Or a stat that I’ve just made up, but one rooted in truth, surely.) They’re reserved for the mad, the bothered, and the clinically distressed. There’s a certain sort of air around them that screams demon time. A stark signal in an otherwise normal place that hooligan activities are occurring in the vicinity (stolen Kias, bicycles, and meth anyone?) Somewhere, someone wearing black Air Force 1s is committing a crime or causing a fight. A trait that transcends all state borders and gerrymandered lines. I’m convinced these shoes possess the wearer, like a split personality that acts first and questions later. Remmick from Sinners would 100% wear black Air Force 1s. I hear they blend perfectly with modern-day ankle bracelets. Maybe the black hides the blood better.
You can almost always feel the presence of someone in black Air Forces before you see them. In NYC, a chill enters the train car. An unexpectedly sharp breeze brushes by. It's the dark procession before the devil itself.
I take wearers of black Air Force 1s incredibly seriously. Once I’ve clocked them, I avoid eye contact at all costs, fixing my downcast gaze for fear that a passing glance might stir or agitate. They care very little about themselves, and even less so about you.
The shoes made a recent appearance on the cover of Kendrick Lamar’s The Day The Party Died / Watch The Party Die, released about 7 months ago. A scathing critique of the music industry, and a not-so-subtle promise to stomp out the party. Someone sporting black Air Force 1s is not one to mince their words, that’s for sure.
In contrast, during my trip to South Korea, I saw so many black Air Forces, so much so, on all sorts of folks, that I almost forgot their origin, their truth. Almost.
I can understand the appeal: all black, clean silhouette, not too slim, not too chunky. But some connotations are harder to shake than others. Fiction becomes fact. Lie becomes lore. So until someone comes along to fully dismantle the origin story of the black Air Force 1, here are a few (mostly) all-black sneakers you can wear responsibly. No crash-out pending.

So yeah, those are my sneaker picks for the girls, guys, and gaitkeepers. They say clothes don’t make the man, but I’ve yet to see a black Air Force 1 wearer prove them wrong.
Maybe one day we’ll reclaim them. But until then, I’ll keep my distance.
Happy dressing and charge catching!
xx
hey so i’m not the research police nor can i speak for every country in the world, but the black air force connotations definitely aren’t just an american thing!! really fun read :)
I have always wondered about the mythology and cursed vibe of black AF1s.