When it comes to sneakers, authenticity matters. For Brock Marciano, his new collaboration with K-Swiss isn’t just another drop, it’s a full-circle moment. Growing up on the West Coast in the ’90s, Air Force 1s weren’t even on the radar. Instead, it was all about clean, all-white silhouettes and, of course, K-Swiss. Back then, rocking a crisp pair with jeans or shorts was the move. That early connection to K-Swiss went deeper than style. Like so many kids, Brock cut his teeth in sneaker retail, working shifts at a local shop, swapping pairs, and learning the game from the inside. Basketball, music, and sneakers were all part of the same rhythm, and the SI-18 became a key part of his youth.
How did a conversation start for your K-Swiss collaboration?
So, I’m 46 this year. Growing up on the West Coast, we didn’t really have Air Force 1s readily available like they are today. Back then, they didn’t even really exist for us. What we had were things like all-white sneakers in plastic cases, Cortez’s, stuff like that. So in the mornings, rocking a clean all-white, chunkier silhouette that worked with jeans or shorts, that was the move. In high school, I wore K-Swiss. That was kind of the alternative to the Air Force 1 for us.
I think most of us had some kind of sneaker retail experience as kids, it’s ingrained in you. At the time, that was the dream job. Everyone wanted it. I used to hang around the shop after practice, talking with the guys about rap music, shoes, just vibing. It was kind of like a boys’ club. Eventually, I said, “Yo, as soon as someone leaves and there’s an opening, let me work here.” I actually ended up working there before I was even technically allowed, hiding it from my parents.
That retail job was the bridge into sneaker culture. I didn’t have money, so it was the only way I could get shoes, plus the trading game. Working there meant I could swap pairs and get new ones whenever something dropped. I definitely couldn’t afford it otherwise. At the same time, I was hooping, playing sports. In the early-to-mid ’90s, that was everything. Naturally, the SI-18 was one of the shoes I wore back then. That experience had me thinking about storytelling, doing something that carried real meaning for me. I didn’t want to just do any random collab. It had to connect back to my childhood, my youth, the stuff that shaped me.
So when it came to working with K-Swiss, I actually put it out on the internet, “If anyone has a plug at K-Swiss, hit me.” My boy linked me with Barney from the team. We spoke, and he was like, “I’d love to do this.” That was dope. One night I was just sitting in my living room, listening to music, smoking, and it clicked. I was like, “Oh, this is it.” The honeydew drink they serve, it’s such a viral, recognisable thing. I thought, why not make it super on the nose? And the idea was to pull inspiration from that. It’s summertime, so I wanted a clean sneaker, not too much going on, but with a little pop, a little storytelling. At the same time, I was listening to a lot of Ghostface, and he had this “strawberry kiwi” line, so it all reminded me of summer ’96, ’97. That was a real moment in my life, big colourful polos, jean shorts, that type of swag. I thought, yeah, this is it and it was locked in.
How important is that storytelling to the design?
The shoe has to represent me. Anyone can just design a shoe or slap a cool colourway on a silhouette. That’s been done a million times. Of course, it has to look good first, that’s obvious, but I wanted there to be layers. Someone might just look at the shoe and decide if they like it or not. But if they dig deeper, they’ll find more meaning. That’s when it clicks: “Oh, that’s clever. This makes sense.”
It’s the same thing with music. The best artists create something palatable and digestible for everyone, but when you peel back the layers, you discover details that feel like they were meant just for you. That’s what makes the connection special. Storytelling, marketing, design, it all works the same way. The goal is to make people feel like there’s something in it for them, something only they can relate to.
That doesn’t mean it has to be super deep. It’s more like lyrics, people connect in their own ways. Storytelling just delivers the product with integrity, makes it feel intentional. When you’re spending your money, you want to feel like part of you is in what you’re buying. You want to know it was made with thought and care. It’s not going to be for everybody, and that’s okay.
Would you say this collaboration marks the beginning of broader opportunities for you, such as moving into art or fashion?
Yeah, absolutely. I’ve always been into fashion, always thought about putting stuff out. But I was hesitant because I don’t see myself as a designer or artist, and I still don’t. What I do have is a strong point of view. The difference this time is that it felt authentic. In the past, I was just making things to make things, and it didn’t feel tied to me. Sneakers, though, that’s different. I used to stay up all night as a kid drawing sneaker designs. It was always a dream to have my own shoe. I’ve worked on collabs before, like New Balance with No Vacancy Inn, but this one was fully mine. I was in charge of the story, the concept, the vision. That mattered.
It just came down to confidence and timing. Right now in my life, it finally made sense. I didn’t feel like I was compromising. That was important, because anything I put out has to meet the highest standard. All my friends are creative directors at the top level, and I didn’t want to do something unless I could stand behind it. With K-Swiss, I knew people might not get it at first. But the reception’s been amazing. And that’s because it’s authentic. It connects to me, back to who I was 30 years ago, and it bridges that with who I am today.
For me, this was also a moment to be able to say to people back home, “Yo, I can’t believe you did this shoe. I remember when you used to wear this shoe.” That’s bugged out, right? We kind of get desensitised to it because me and my friends have been in this space for so long. We’ve been around the apex predators of music, fashion, all of it. So sometimes you lose that sense of validation. You get used to it. But this was a big deal for me. I’ve always wanted to design sneakers, and I’ve got an endless vault of inspiration to pull from. This was just the first iteration of what I hope to keep doing for a while.
Your drop coincided with the U.S. Open. How important was that timing?
That was intentional from the start. I only wanted to drop around a major tournament. That was non-negotiable. K-Swiss has such deep tennis roots, and tying it to a major felt right. Tennis is a community, but it’s also an event, so the U.S. Open gave us a real stage and a natural tie-in.
For me, 90s tennis was the pinnacle of style, before it all got too technical. I was a huge Agassi fan. Him and Sampras, what they wore on the court ended up being what we wore in the streets. The Agassi logo is iconic. Baggy pique polos, drawstring shorts, plaids, that was real style. You could rock it both on the court and in the streets. You can’t run around in a dry-fit tank top, but a polo with fresh shorts and sneakers? That’s a fit.
So part of this project was about bringing back that energy, less technical, more cultural. Look good, feel good. I miss when tennis gear had that type of presence, and I wanted to tap into that.
Is this a one-off collab, or do you see more with K-Swiss?
We’ve been working on some ideas, tossing things around, and I think we’ll finalise something soon. I don’t want to say too much until the paperwork’s done, but nah, it’s not a one-and-done. I’m planning to keep this going.
Looking back on the project, what’s your biggest takeaway? Did working on a sneaker feel different from making music?
Honestly, it’s the same process. You dive in, do the research, throw around ideas. Some stick, some don’t. You sit with them, and sometimes you realise, nah, that’s not it. But then you hit that “aha” moment where it clicks. For me, that was three in the morning, staring at the idea like, “This is so obvious, how didn’t I see it?”
The Honeydews drink ended up being the inspiration. The colourway tied perfectly into summer, into the U.S. Open, into the whole story. It checked every box. And that’s what it comes down to: first, it has to look good. The design has to work on its own. Then you layer in the story. Even if it’s not the deepest cultural reference, it felt authentic, it made sense, and it tied everything together. That’s when I knew, yeah, this is it.
