By Oliver Georgiou

You know that awesome feeling when you think you’re all over it, you’ve got the game completely worked out and can mix it with the best, then some punk rocks up and not only shuts you down, but makes you realise there’s a whole other level? No? Like, for example, you’re playing Subway Surfers on your phone day-in, day-out, finally clocking over a million and feeling like a total baller, then you find out your little brother just scored a lazy five milli. They’re the kind of moments in life that make you wanna throw your toys out of the pram and go sit in the corner and weep. Well this seedy little exposé might just have the same effect!

How’s this relevant you ask? Keep reading. All right, so we’re all pretty savvy with our kicks, geeking out on ‘em most of our waking hours, checking blogs, searching for grails, peeping IG, trolling hashtags and of course, hitting up every single sneaker spot in the free world. I’ll admit I’ve woken up in the morning on a few occasions to have my wife gimme 20 Qs about who Sergio Lozano is because I keep talking about the Air Max 95 in my sleep. For better or worse, or whatever, I’m living the foot life. A few years ago, I was checking some Air Max videos on the Tube when the vid I was watching started to skew in a somewhat fruity direction as the wearer started sensually caressing the shoes with his feet. WTF? I checked the comments below. ‘NICE SOCKS!!! CAN I EAT THEM???’, ‘Can I sniff your sneakers?’, ‘je les voudrai bien’. Hold up…. nah, screw that, let’s search again. After a long train ride through related videos, my eyes had well and truly been opened wide up. I was like Nicole Kidman when she saw Tom Cruise naked for the first time. Not only that, I’d come to a harsh realisation: I’m into sneakers, but not like that! Compared to these loose homeboys, I’m straight out of a gated sneaker community’s bible reading session. I’m a frigid sneaker prude! Through a random act of ‘accidental’ discovery, I’d finally found where the real freakazoids were hanging out. We’re talking shoe-play, mutilation, glorification, people standing on each other’s hands and stepping on fruit – all in the name of getting off on a good thing. So here it is folks, an outsider’s glossary to the world of sneaky freaky shoe play. You got a problem with that? PS: No boners were formed during the making of this exposè.

FOOD STOMPING

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We'll bring you a new sneaker fetish driving people cuckoo tomorrow. If you want physical evidence of this bizarro subculture to show your closest dogs at your next pasta night, then grab Issue 33.