Smelly Old Shoes Run Into Big Money

Somewhere in Tokyo there’s probably an oversized Japanese guy strutting around proudly in a pair of my 10-year-old Air Max Nikes he bought for $400 (43,652 yen).

Or perhaps he’s showcased my size 12 dogs in his home as if they were exquisite antiques.

Talk about mass lunacy. Japan’s terminally cool are shelling out otherworldly wads of cash - sometimes thousands - for used, smelly American sneakers.

I know. I pocketed $150 for two pairs of well-worn running shoes that were Goodwill bound until I stumbled across Tace Chalfa’s advertisement:

“Up to $500 for your 70’s and 80’s tennis shoes!”

Chalfa, 24, is the nation’s premiere dealer in valuable sports footwear. She is featured in the September issue of Details Magazine (page 84), a sort of GQ for Generation X hipsters.

Although based in Seattle, where she and husband, Ed, run two second-hand clothing stores, the Chalfas also own a home on Spokane’s South Hill.

They suspect the city that gave birth to Bloomsday is a treasure trove of outdated swoosh-striped gear.

Have some old Nikes? Want to make some quick cash? Call (509) 534-1157.

This 24-year-old woman is in a buying mood.

Chalfa recently paid one longtime Spokane marathoner $1,500 for 30 pairs of well-abused Nikes. The man told Chalfa he might wave the check under the nose of his girlfriend, who nagged him to junk the battered shoes.

“It’s pretty crazy,” Chalfa concedes of the Japanese addiction to American kitsch.

And how. In recent years, fad-stricken Japanese have paid inflated prices for everything from our old cars to our old Levis.

But old running shoes? What’s next, vintage jock straps?

Tokyo visitors today can find entire streets lined with shops that hawk nothing but classic Nikes and, to a lesser extent, Addidas and Pumas. Wearing costly vintage sneakers is the desire of every pampered teen.

Old Nike T-shirts, running suits and other paraphernalia also go for big bucks. Glossy, full-color Japanese fashion magazines are devoted to this bizarre shoe fetish.

Buyers visiting Chalfa in Seattle usually drop $50,000 at a time for boxes crammed with hundreds of pairs.

“If I take them in the back room they just flip,” adds Chalfa, who estimates her current inventory at over 1,000 pairs. “We have more shoes than anybody else in the world at this point.”

First edition Air Jordans (1985) are among the most coveted. A red-and-black pair Chalfa pays $400 for will sell in a Tokyo boutique for $1,200.

The price soars higher for blue-and-black Jordans, which are rare because they never sold as well.

Those old blue and gold waffle trainers are valuable as are any bright Nikes. The gaudier the color, says Chalfa, the better.

“It would be hard to believe if you didn’t have the cold cash in your hand,” says Don Kardong, Bloomsday founder and a former Olympic marathoner.

Kardong once owned a shoe store that catered to runners. He probably would be a zillionaire had he just closed the doors and stockpiled his old inventory.

“This keeps alive my streak for missing business trends,” laments the veteran runner.

Chalfa jumped into this weird shoe biz several months ago.

Husband Ed, 42, has been buying and selling vintage clothing in Seattle for years. After Japanese customers started wandering into their store asking for Nikes, Chalfa placed an ad in the Seattle Weekly offering to buy old shoes for big bucks.

A TV station gave them some free publicity. The next day hundreds of sellers lined up with Nikes in tow.

“We spent $23,000 in one week,” says Ed. “I thought we were going to go broke.”

Now the couple is running all the way to the nearest vault.

They certainly have the shoes for it.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color photo