I’m thinking about getting some trainers. What should I get?
Carolyn, by email
What a question! Truly, Carolyn, you might as well have asked me what is the meaning of life, or what it is Kylie Jenner actually does. Either of those puzzlers would be easier to answer than the issue of which trainers you should buy.
In last month’s US Vogue, British designer Paul Andrew, now shoe designer at Salvatore Ferragamo, admits that his primary fear about taking on one of the biggest jobs in his business was simply that: “Everyone wears a sneaker today.” And it really is quite something to look back to the 1950s, at the varieties of sandals and heels women used to wear, and compare them with the blessed comfort and ubiquity of sports shoes today. But all the creativity and self-expression that once went into fancy day shoes have not been squashed. They have simply been transferred to the trainer, and because the palette is more limited than varieties of women’s shoes of yore provided, the smallest trainer detail is now freighted with significance. The differences between a woman who wears Converse (hippyish creative) and one who opts for Superga (wannabe It girl) is far more dramatic than those between one who once wore Ferragamo (old-school posho) and one who pledged her troth to Chanel (fashion posho).
So when you ask what kind of trainers you should buy, Carolyn, it really depends on what kind of person you are. See my trainers, see my soul. But if you’re asking what the cool trainers of the moment are, then that is easy: Reebok’s new Club C. I’ll be honest, the appeal of these boring old-school tennis shoes somewhat passes me by, and I usually love everything from the 80s. But I live by a simple maxim and it is this: never question trendy gay people, and this is undoubtedly the shoe of the trendy gay people at the moment. As Samantha so wisely says in Sex and the City, “First the gays, then the girls,” and in the past fortnight at least three-quarters of the Guardian’s fashion desk have ordered a pair for themselves. So if that isn’t definitive proof then I’ll eat my own trainers (Jeremy Scott for Adidas, the shoe for those who spend too long on asos.com).
It’s the year of celebrity babies! After Beyoncé and Amal Clooney, now Serena Williams. Any advice for her?
Ann, by email
Are you high, Ann? Getting an early start today on the pipe? Me giving advice to Serena Williams would be like a cockroach mountainsplaining to a mountain. News that Williams is 20 weeks pregnant has prompted the usual excitement that stories about celebrity pregnancies provoke. When the world collectively realised this meant that Williams won the Australian Open – without dropping a single set – when she was eight weeks pregnant, there were a few well-intended “Gosh, women are amazing” pieces. But I am here to change the record to my favourite disc, one I’ve played at least three times here before: it is called: “Serena Williams is a goddess from above and all you haters should spend the rest of eternity kicking yourselves in the butt.”
Let’s deal with the pregnancy issue first. Yes, when pregnant, doing anything more strenuous than opening another packet of Oreos while watching re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is an achievement, but it is quintuply so during the first trimester. This isn’t being acknowledged enough in coverage of this story: when I was in the first trimester, I threw up every other day, and I genuinely believed that this was because my brain had melted and needed evacuation from my body. There was not a moment during that first trimester when I was not severely nauseated/exhausted/brain dead/congested, and usually all four together. I cancelled a coffee date with a friend during that period because it was genuinely beyond me. Williams, by contrast, wins the Australian Open. We feminists don’t like to talk about how much our biology affects us, because, for too long, men have used it as a weapon against us. But denying reality is absurd and, really, instead of letting it be used as a negative it should be something we’re proud of: look how awesome we are that we have to deal with all this and we still GET SHIT DONE. And in the case of Serena, some of us get more shit done than literally anyone else, ever.
But let’s now talk about Williams. I have written many times before that no athlete has contended with as much bullshit as Williams, from (male) sportswriters saying she doesn’t deserve the same pay as male tennis players to (male) sportswriters doubting her motivation, to (male) tennis players, such as Pat Cash, decreeing her in 2007 to be a “lost cause”. That’s not even mentioning the fact that Williams, shockingly, makes about a fifth annually of what Roger Federer gets in sponsorship deals, a disparity that reeks of both racism and sexism.
Well, damn them all, Serena, because you really are the greatest tennis player of all time. We knew this before, and we know it for sure now. You win grand slams, while making a human inside of you, and all those carpers wish they were you. This is Serena’s world, and we’re all lucky to live in it.
Post your questions to Hadley Freeman, Ask Hadley, The Guardian, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU. Email ask.hadley@theguardian.com.
