The Originals: My First Clarks

It was the summer of 2007, and I was enjoying all of the exotic delights that a holiday in the Caribbean can bring, the beautiful island of Jamaica to be precise.
I had walked along her sandy beaches and felt the waves crash against my feet. I had dined on the islands sumptuous cuisine, which on the most part was purchased at the side of the road; curried mutton, ackee and salt fish, jerk chicken and much more, all joyous to the pallet.

I attended the dancehalls, the street parties and the open air reggae festivals. Reggae music is the heartbeat of the island and I do recall not being able to remain stationary whenever I heard it. 

During my tropical adventure and amidst everything I had experienced there seemed to be a running constant. 

What was this constant? you might ask, one might even wager it to be indeed the infectious reggae music, or  perhaps the scorching sun that at times was almost unbearable for someone more accustomed to British weather, and you would be right. These things made for quite a fascinating constant, but they are not the delightful continuum that I am speaking about. 

I, in fact, am talking about the running consistency of the splendid footwear of the islanders. In particular, a suede ankle boot that seemed to be everywhere and worked well with any attire. 

Before long I realised that it was the Clarks Original desert boot that I had seen parading around the island on so many locals feet.  

From young to old, in all corners of the Island some had brand new pairs, and some had older and a lot more worn, ragged looking pairs, but to me, they still looked good. 

As a traveled man, I am familiar with the phrase “when in Rome do as the Romans do,” and on every escapade I often intend to be intertwined into local customs in some way shape or form. So, I decided to join my Caribbean host’s in what seemed to be local custom in purchasing a pair of Clarks Original desert boots in black suede. 

The man in the market place was more than willing to show me to his storage room which was stacked wall to wall with the popular shoe. Unsurprisingly, he had my size and he sold me them at a slightly marked down price, (I suspect due to the rapport we had built up). He seemed like a happy and cheerful chap; I suppose anyone whose latest stock was flying off the shelves as quickly as his was would be just as brimming. 

I returned to old blighty with my suede souvenirs, my captured fleet, my trophy animals head that was these Clarks. 

My peers gave them a mixed reception initially; some were instantly in adoration whilst others remained sceptical. Unfazed I persisted in wearing them to any casual or indeed formal occasion that I attended for at least a year. Any excuse I had to wear (and show off) my Clarks I wore them. They had to be the most comfortable and adaptable shoes that I had ever owned. 

It didn’t take long for me to start rummaging through the Clarks stores of Britain’s high streets in search of more Originals. So after the desert boots followed the desert treks and the jinks colas, then came the bushacre two’s,(a more rugged take on the desert boot). It was safe to say that I was hooked. 

Five years ago in Jamaica, a love affair was started that began as a holiday romance, but it is now a long lasting and fulfilling relationship. 






Submitted by David, The Collective


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