There was a time when Nike made about 5 shoes at very obvious price points and schoolmates could judge your family’s affluence by which level you could convince your mom to purchase. This was the era of the Starter jacket. Much like the king of the shoe world, Air Jordans, I never had a Starter jacket. My adolescent solution to this oversight on my folks’ part was to draw them. Incessantly. I had notebooks full of pretty girls and hard-core guys clad in Starters and Jordans, sometimes with little else. All one needed is a hockey jersey and a pair of jeans to complete the look and ascend to the status of ‘fashion idol.’ This article does a good job of painting the picture of the world that a 10-year-old Nic lived in and remembers fondly. Other than those disappointing trips to Foot Locker, of course.