Sneaker collectors often like to say that a good pair of shoes can be compared to a work of art. Over a year of planning, designing, testing, and even storytelling go into each and every pair of shoes that Nike pumps out of its factories. And out of such efforts come pairs so great, so profound in design, that they end up being sold for far more than the original price point Nike gives them. A connoisseur of fine art browsing Sotheby’s for ongoing auctions will often find a listing for an old pair of Nike Air Mags sitting right next to a 19th–century Impressionist piece—and the pair of Air Mags probably costs just as much. The parallels between sneakers and art, while unprecedented, are clearer than ever before. And what better way to celebrate this than for Nike to collaborate with real designers, painters, and sculptors, right?
In 2012, Nike and then–up–and–coming sculptor Tom Sachs announced one of the most unique (and now infamous) power combos in the sneaker industry: NikeCraft. At the time, Sachs was known for his close ties with NASA and his studies of space travel and the Apollo program. In 2007, he staged one of his first high–profile exhibitions, appropriately titled Space Program, which featured sculptures and hand–built goods inspired by the hunger for exploration that fueled the Apollo missions. NikeCraft’s debut model, the Mars Yard shoe, showcased Sachs’ creative expertise and tied it into his fascination with space travel and equipment—hence the “Mars.”
When NikeCraft first came to fruition, Nike offered Sachs some easy money. They wanted him to design a new Nike Dunk or Air Force 1, shoes that Nike consistently sold millions of, which would have given him an easy base model to kickstart his sneaker–design career. But Sachs adamantly refused: Like the sculptures that filled his studio, he wanted to build the shoe from the ground up. The NASA–tested rubber compound used on the outsole; the space–grade airbag fabric used as “mesh” for the upper; the way that the pull tab on the tongue was hand–stitched on—all of these were the brain children of Sachs himself. He accepted no less than full creative control over the project. That was just the way he liked it.
In 2012, the Mars Yard was released to huge success. Today, original pairs that are still in circulation can fetch anywhere between $6,000 and $15,000. NikeCraft had its huge debut, and the collaborations were off and running after that. What better way to follow up the Mars Yard with the Mars Yard 2.0? After that, NikeCraft released the General Purpose Shoe. Released with the goal of leaving the hypebeasts and the resellers behind, the GPS was for the masses—readily available at department stores while still carrying the desirable NikeCraft name.
NikeCraft was on top of the sneaker world. Maybe giving Sachs full say over his Nike releases wasn't so bad. After all, Nike was making a ton of money, and Sachs was happy. But maybe his controlling tendencies should have stayed in the sneaker world.
In early 2023, almost directly after the successful release of the GPS, reports from former employees in Sachs’ studio began to reveal the realities of working with Sachs. He was described as controlling (go figure), abusive, and elitist. It was revealed that Sachs had a room in his studio dubbed “the Rape Room.” Sachs had appeared at meetings with female Nike representatives wearing nothing but his underwear. His former employees were even afraid of speaking out regarding their treatment for fear of retaliation. Sachs, came clean right after being exposed, expressing regret for his dehumanizing actions and poor treatment of his former collaborators.
Allegations—true or false—of this magnitude are something huge global brands like Nike simply can’t afford to carry on their back. So, like dead weight, it seemed like NikeCraft was finished. There was no way that Sachs was ever going to be seen the same way again in the art or sneaker world. Nike was going to keep his name far away from their future projects, right?
Wrong.
Almost as quickly as he was rid of, leaks of an oddly familiar–looking shoe were being passed around online. There was a signature tongue loop, oddly roveresque midsole shape, and some brand new details like a rubber mud guard on the upper. This couldn’t possibly be an old photo of the Mars Yard 1.0 or 2.0. It was, unmistakably, a Mars Yard 3.0. That was impossible. NikeCraft and Sachs were finished. Everyone hated Sachs and what he stood for. In the past, the NikeCraft name generated insane levels of hype among the sneaker community. But it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that his time in the design spotlight was over.
But there’s one thing that Nike prioritizes over morality: success. And if Nike’s good at selling shoes, it’s great at making the public forget.
The NikeCraft Mars Yard 3.0 was slated for a Sept. 19 release, and the sneaker community lost its mind. Nike began rolling out advertising campaigns for the pair. Sachs slowly made his way back into the public eye in interviews and podcasts under the watchful gaze of Nike’s PR department. And as irrefutable proof that Nike could control the narrative however it wanted, the shoes sold out almost instantly.
When considering the place a shoe like the Mars Yard has in the sneaker market, there really isn’t anything else quite like it. How many other brands can you think of making shoes fit for walking on Mars? The modern sneaker scene as a whole is about collabs, collabs, collabs. Think of the sheer number of people who associate Nike with the “Air Jordan” name. Or consider the recent Pharrell x Adidas collaborations that have been rolling out over the past couple of years. The money is in the moniker, and Sachs’ signature was just too hype to leave behind.
If time heals all wounds, then it seems like Sachs’ actions don’t leave even a papercut’s worth of trauma, tears, and tribulation behind. NikeCraft’s shoes will continue to sell like crazy. More colorways of the GPS are already being sold for preorder. In the sneaker world, unfortunately, hype tends to override empathy and common sense. The consumer that the Mars Yard 3.0 panders to is one who knows enough about niche sneaker culture to also know what Sachs did, so the fact that this shoe sold out as fast as it did is driven by either indifference or investment. It’s not insane to assume that some of the people who are scooping these pairs up don’t even care for the design. After all, a shoe like the Mars Yard is meant to make a statement rather than complete a style. Maybe the statement is that the wearer likes harassing their colleagues (kidding).
The original Mars Yard 1.0s are crazy expensive. Maybe the hope is that resellers can derive the 1.0s’ hype from the 3.0s and make a small fortune ten or 12 years down the line. Reselling culture and the money–hungry blindness that comes with it often takes away the storytelling, history (good or bad), and cultural meaning behind sneakers. It’s unfortunate when a shoe you genuinely love for its design and meaning to the community skyrockets in price because the “investors” out there are staking their claim.
Pairs of the 3.0 are now selling for over four times their original MSRP, and the community is praising the model as an “obvious” contender for Shoe of the Year. Just a year ago, Sachs wouldn’t have be allowed to breathe in Nike’s direction. Prices for his work with NikeCraft had plummeted, and pairs of the GPS went from viral to abandoned in a week’s time. Nike’s moral compass has been a point of contention for years now with its business practices, but something this egregious (and unfortunately successful) should never go unrecognized. But as the Nike cycle often goes: recycle, rinse, repress, repeat. Right?
