Collector Spotlight: Serbia’s ‘Master of Air’ on Grails, Grit, and Growing the Game

What happens when childhood heartbreak becomes the start of something bigger? For Serbia’s ‘Master of Air’, a stolen pair of wasn’t the end – it was the beginning.

From hustling through post-war scarcity to building one of Europe’s most respected collections, we caught up with Marko Đorđević to talk grails, midnight missions to rescue sneakers from dumpsters, and the rise of Tike as Belgrade’s ultimate sneaker hub.

Serbia’s sneaker community has always had its own distinct pulse. What do you think defines the culture here, and how has it evolved since you started out?
Sneaker culture in Serbia existed before we even had a name for it. For kids in the former Yugoslavia, iconic Air Max models from the early 90s were, sadly, just an unattainable dream. With war, inflation, and widespread poverty, Air Max sneakers became status symbols that defined a generation.

That early sense of longing evolved into obsession – a drive to own every classic Air Max, and chase every hyped release. Today’s younger generation grew up on stories from older sneakerheads, but their focus has shifted to cutting-edge tech and high-profile collabs.

When Tike opened in Belgrade in 2016, it gave the culture a physical home. Through education, storytelling, and community building, we’ve helped elevate sneaker culture to a higher level.

Were there certain pairs or moments that really shaped your love for sneakers early on?
Basketball and definitely lit the spark. Movies like Back to the Future and the Nike made me believe every hero had magic sneakers.

But the moment that shaped me most? When my first pair of Air Max BWs – bought by my mum in 12, monthly instalments – were stolen from my gym locker. We couldn’t afford another pair, but we still had to pay them off for the rest of the year. I was only ten, but I made a promise that day: one day, I’ll own every pair I ever dreamed of.

Tike have been riding with Nike for a long time. What does that relationship mean to you, and how has it changed over the years?
Tike was always about more than just sneakers – it was a concept built around local identity. Nike saw that and got behind it, supporting us in everything from location choices and store design to campaign storytelling.

Being backed by Nike brought credibility, but also responsibility. It helped us build something that elevated the entire sneaker scene – not just in fashion, but across music, sport, and street culture too.

The Dn8 taps into Belgrade’s motorsports and drift culture. Why does it resonate so strongly here?
Belgrade loves speed – sports cars, loud engines, extreme sports. And for decades, Air Max has been part of that energy. Drift racers in particular wear Air Max sneakers off-track – especially the

The with its eight visible Air units, instantly connected with that scene. The figure-eight shape mirrors the track layout of drift competitions. Once drivers understood the design concept and story, they were all in.

Who are some local voices, creators, or kids in the scene that deserve more shine right now?
That’s a tough one. Since social media took over, it’s harder to filter out the noise. There’s so much content – most of it trend-driven, disposable.

As for sneaker collectors? Sadly, we haven’t seen many new ones. The younger generation just chases what’s trending, and then moves on. The passion for collecting seems to be fading.

Got a funny, crazy, or terrifying sneaker story?
I already mentioned my stolen BWs – a childhood trauma. But here’s a crazy one: about ten years ago, I got a tip that a rare sneaker had been spotted in a dumpster – in another country. I jumped in my car at midnight and drove 400+ kilometres to retrieve it.

It was an Air Max BW ‘Violet Jade’ from 1994. One of the last pairs left in the world. When I crossed the border again 30 minutes later, the Bosnian police pulled me over for a full inspection. I explained the whole story… they laughed the whole time.

Looking back, what’s been your proudest moment in the game?
Becoming Nike’s 'Master of Air' for Serbia in 2016. That moment turned my collecting into something official – a recognition of my journey. Also, being recognised in stores across Europe – that feeling of respect from beyond your borders, that means a lot.

How do you store or catalogue your collection?
When I had under 100 pairs, it felt like a cozy museum. Now I’ve got over 1000, and it’s more like controlled chaos! My whole apartment is sneakers.
Still, I somehow know where everything is – even if I forget I own some pairs. Some vintage gems haven’t seen daylight in years, but they’re preserved like relics.

Any grails you’re still chasing?
I’ve ticked off most of the list – especially the full Air Max lineage in original colorways. What I really want now is for Nike to re-release some of the 90s models. Vintage pairs just aren’t wearable anymore.

Final flex – what are your top three from your stash?

1. Air Max BW 'Regal Blue' (1992) – a Balkan icon. I’ve got an original sample (just the right shoe!) and another pair I reconstructed myself. Only three known pairs exist – and I have two.
2. Opium x Nike (2005) – Opium Paris is the heartbeat of Euro sneaker culture. Massive respect.
3. x Air Max 1 'Viotech' (2003) – one of the few pairs I broke the bank for. I had to have them. It was stronger than me.

For more obsessive deep dives, the t vault is always open.