#clarks

Deadstock Clark’s Wallabees

So the quarter has come to a close as everyone burns their finals to keep them warm this winter break. I got the chance to ransack the closet of CPPFASHION’s founder, Daniel Galsworth. 

Below is a few key outfits in his closet and I even did an interview on how this blog came to be. Please enjoy these lovely ensembles as you keep your ears open to Dan the Man. 

https://soundcloud.com/user-77396454/danthe-man-behind-the-camera

Thanks for a wonderful quarter Cal Poly Pomona! Be sure to come by in the winter and say hi! 

Great blog post on Aphrodite’s website, analysing the success of Clarks among many subcultural groups: ‘From Jamaica to Japan: Clarks’ Subcultural History‘

‘The Jamaican rude boy took pride in their appearance with Clarks Desert Boots establishing the brand’s flagship silhouette as a staple item. Being expensive, stylish and made in England gave the shoe a sign of affluence, as well as a counterculture strike to the colonisation of the Caribbean country. Practically, the boot was versatile, strong and could withstand lots of wear; its crepe sole made barely a sound affording the wearer with an element of surprise that quickly earned Clarks an unsavoury reputation with Jamaican law enforcement.’

Another article on the subject: ‘Vybz Kartel puts Clarks footprint on Jamaica’ (source: The Guardian)

‘"Clarks is as much a part of the Jamaican culture as ackee and saltfish and roast breadfruit, I swear to you,“ says Kartel, whose real name is Adijah Palmer. "Policemen wear it, gangsters wear it. Big men wear it to their work. Schoolchildren wear it to school.”

If Clarks have long been in Britain the shoes of schoolchildren and pensioners, in Jamaica they are a long-standing symbol of upward social mobility, valued for their versatility and – important in a tropical climate – their breathability.

“The generation who had immigrated to England to work in that period after the second world war would return to Jamaica wearing these Clarks, and people developed a fascination,” Ranx says. “You go back to Jamaica on holiday, the first thing they ask you for is: ‘Bring back a traditional Marks & Spencer string vest, or a pair of Clarks.’”

By the time reggae exploded internationally in the 1970s, Clarks were the preferred footwear for Rastafarians and “baldheads” alike. Rummage through LPs from reggae’s golden era, and you’re likely to turn up at least a few photos of rude boys with their trouser legs rolled up to reveal ankle-length desert boots. But it was in the 1980s, as the social consciousness of the Bob Marley era gave way to dancehall’s rampant materialism, that the shoes gained iconic status. “The 80s was a hyper-materialistic time in Jamaica and Jamaican music,” says Jason Panton, owner of the Kingston fashion boutique Base Kingston, and I&I Clothing, a Jamaican streetwear brand. “After the whole scare over Jamaica going socialist, a lot of importance was placed on brand names. People wanted other people to know him stepped up him life. Part of the way you show that is you have a Clarks, you have a gold chain around your neck, and you ain’t afraid to wear it on road.” The teenage toaster Little John (not to be confused with rapper/producer Lil’ Jon) even scored a 1985 hit with Clarks Booty. “Hol’ up yuh foot and show your Clarks Booty,” went the song’s chorus, a riff on Yellowman’s Zungguzungguguzungguzeng, “Fling out your foot because your shoe’s brand new."’