The Nike Air Pressure and my spoiled self
"No, you can't always get what you want" as the famous Rolling Stones song goes "but if you try sometimes, you just might find—you get what you need."
I've wanted things in life that I couldn't always get, but there are very few things that I've wanted as badly as the Nike Air Pressure. This is a story about teenage desire, parental wisdom, and the strange joy of fulfilling a 25-year-old dream.
The Shoe That Changed Everything
In 1989, Nike released a sneaker that would revolutionize basketball footwear: the Air Pressure. This wasn't just another basketball shoe—it was the first sneaker with an external air pump that let you customize the fit around your ankle. The shoe came with its own hand pump and pressure gauge, allowing athletes (and teenagers who wanted to look like athletes) to inflate the air bladder for a snug, supportive fit.
The Air Pressure was the brainchild of Tinker Hatfield, Nike's legendary designer who also created the Air Jordan III, IV, and V, as well as the Air Max 1. Hatfield, who trained as an architect before joining Nike, was known for drawing inspiration from unexpected places—the Air Jordan III's elephant print, for instance, came from a pair of exotic furniture he saw in a store.[1]
For the Air Pressure, Hatfield looked to something more industrial: aerospace technology. The shoe's pump system was inspired by the adjustable fit mechanisms used in ski boots and even space suits. Nike patented the technology and marketed it as the pinnacle of performance footwear.[2]
But innovation came at a price. The Air Pressure retailed for $175 USD—in 1989 dollars. To put that in perspective: the Air Jordan IV, Michael Jordan's signature shoe that year, cost $110. A solid pair of high-top basketball shoes ran about $75. The Air Pressure was, by a significant margin, the most expensive sneaker ever released to the general public.[3]
Teenage Obsession
I was 15 years old when the Nike Air Pressure dropped, and when I saw the shoe, I fell in love with it. Everything about it screamed future—the high-top silhouette, the strap across the ankle, and that incredible pump mechanism. When I had sufficiently worn out my previous high tops, my mom drove me to the shoe store to get a new pair. I showed her the Nike Air Pressure, explained why it was so revolutionary, and begged her to buy it for me.
She said "no."
She didn't even consider it, because she rightly believed that paying $175 for a pair of sneakers for a 15-year-old was idiotic. In 2024 dollars, adjusted for inflation, that's roughly equivalent to spending $450 on a single pair of shoes for your sophomore.[4]
I threw a fit, and we left the shoe store without buying anything. Over the next few days, I prepared what I thought was a compelling case: an actual essay covering all of the reasons why she should buy them for me. I proposed doing extra chores around the house. I promised to study more. I detailed my plan to try out for the junior varsity basketball team and the critical need for ankle support. I was a teenage lawyer pleading before a judge who had already made up her mind.
She admired my resolve but was steadfast in her belief that a 15-year-old shouldn't be wearing $175 sneakers. It was a matter of principle, and I wasn't going to change her mind.
I was emotionally devastated. For the next couple of weeks, I gave my mom the cold shoulder to make it clear that I was suffering. She was a good mom and consoled me, made me my favorite foods, and took me to the movies. She did the things that a mom does to make her spoiled son feel better. Eventually, I settled on a pair of Nike Air Force sneakers—very nice, but sadly not the Nike Air Pressure.
The Kid Who Had Everything
On the first day back to school for my sophomore year, I sat quietly in homeroom waiting for the bell to ring. I glanced over to the doorway as David L. walked in—and I immediately spotted what was on his feet. The Nike Air Pressure. Brand new. Gleaming white leather with that unmistakable strap and pump system.
David was born into a wealthy family. His father had something to do with creating the Snapple brand of drinks. David was a star basketball player, ran with the most popular kids in school, and was on the shortlist to be homecoming king. He was the sort of fellow who always dated the pretty girl and seemed to glide through life without friction.
You could be jealous of many things about David and his seemingly perfect life. But for me, it was only his Nike Air Pressure that I coveted. He had them. I didn't.
For the next year, I watched David walk around school wearing those sneakers—he was the only one in my school who had them—and every time I saw them, I was reminded of what I couldn't have. I'd steal glances and daydream of one day owning a pair myself. I also harbored a little bit of anger toward my mom, which took me a few more years to get over completely.
The Long Wait
My love of sneakers continued well into adulthood. The Air Pressure faded from stores but never from my memory. Now and then I would find a vintage pair on eBay, but the shoe didn't age well. The foam and rubber compounds Nike used in the late 1980s weren't designed for long-term storage—they would crumble, disintegrate, or separate from the sole in a process sneakerheads call "sole separation." Most pairs from 1989 were unwearable by the 2000s.[5]
My dream of owning a pair seemed like it would never be fulfilled.
Resurrection
Then, without warning, on a balmy fall day in 2015, Nike announced they would be releasing a limited run of the original Nike Air Pressure. The sneakerhead community erupted. This was a holy grail retro—one of the most requested re-releases in Nike's history.
On January 14, 2016, Nike dropped them through their SNKRS app. It was a limited release, allocated through Nike's lottery system. I wasn't selected to purchase a pair directly—but I did find a slightly overpriced pair on eBay. After waiting 27 years, a small markup wasn't going to stop me.
When the Air Pressure arrived, I felt a lot like my 15-year-old self as I tore into the packaging. The custom box. The smell of new leather. The pump, nestled in its own compartment. It was all perfect. They felt solid in the hand, and they slipped onto my feet like a glove.
Once I got them laced up, I applied some air using the pump, and the shoe wrapped around my foot, making it feel impossibly snug and secure. They looked so good on my feet.
I finally had my own pair of Nike Air Pressure.
The Lesson (Sort Of)
It's hard to explain the joy I get wearing these sneakers. Hidden somewhere in my brain is that 15-year-old kid who waited more than 25 years to fulfill this dream. In a way, I'm glad my mom denied me the joy of owning those shoes when I was a kid—otherwise I would have missed the deeper joy of earning them as an adult and appreciating what they meant.
Looking back, I wish my 15-year-old self hadn't been such a spoiled kid whose dreams amounted to owning a pair of sneakers. It wasn't until much later that I grew out of that sheltered world and realized there was much more to life than material goods.
Still, all things considered, these kicks are dope.
Epilogue: Celebrities in Air Pressures
Over the years (particularly in the early 1990s), there were Nike Air Pressure sightings on celebrities. Most were either athletes or musicians. The athletes generally pulled it off better—probably because the shoe was designed for the court, not the stage.
Sources
[1] Complex: Tinker Hatfield—The Man Who Made Air Jordans a Cultural Icon
[2] Nike: Air Pressure History
[3] Nice Kicks: The Most Expensive Sneakers of the 1980s
[4] U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics CPI Inflation Calculator