Here's the situation: I find shoes to be one of the more difficult items to shop for because I don't want really flashy, I don't want really expensive, and I don't want to buy shoes for a sport I don't play. No tennis shoes, no basketball hightops, no sk8r kicks. Plain sneakers. 'Course these days you pay a premium for a pair of canvas Converse, so about four or so years ago I found out about Puma Romas. Plain, nice, about $60. They last me about two years a pair. I'm on my third pair at this point. I had really finally settled on some shoes I could use until I became a committed adult and had to start buying Timberland boat shoes (no disrespect, Timberland is on my Nice list).
Earlier this week I was reading a copy of The Economist, like I sometimes do when I think there may be some intellectual hotties around who can give me advice on measuring principle based on global economic factors. And they had an article about a group of people. Now, full disclosure: I thought that the name "Roma" was just a douchy way to say "Rome" and was supposed to reflect upper-crust European roots. Turns out (even if the shoe wasn't named after them) the shoe shares its name with a characteristically poor, group of present-day, nomadic people who live across Europe.
So why's it automatically tasteless to name a shoe "Roma?"
The Economist June 21st-27th
"A vast bonfire of copper cables fills the air with fumes as insulating material is burnt off. A ragged shoeless workforce of all ages sorts the inventory by hand."
"[Roma] are reluctant to send their young children [to school], as they don't have the money to buy them shoes."
The article mentions how the Roma live in small crowded, mud-floored rooms, and how very few of them have any official documentation of their birth or any record of them even being alive. But even these things are only mentioned once. No shoes? Twice. Good job, Puma. I hope you're using the $180 I've given you so far to slingshot babies into a pile of hungry kittens.
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