On Nassau Street, a raspy rendition of “Jingle Bells” filled the air as two musicians attempted to translate their Christmas cheer and musical expertise into a few quick bucks. That, mixed with the fact that my Dunkin iced coffee was warmer than the temperature outside, made me I realize that the Christmas season had officially commenced. This Christmas season, the students got nestled all snug in their Housing & Real Estate Services approved bed (which requires extra-long, twin-size sheets), while visions of sugar plums (and finals after Christmas) danced in their heads. Each night, the Elf on the Shelf flies back to the North Pole to report DFMOs, honor code violations, and failed attempts to get a meal to Santa Claus. With break soon on the horizon, I realized that I needed to expedite my hunt to find meaningful and personal gifts for a small group of my closest friends on campus.
I sat on my futon with glazed eyes and a frustrated demeanor as an empty search box on Etsy.com taunted me. I had nothing. No ideas. Whatsoever. All I knew was that my friend liked vaping and econ, and other than buying stock in Juul, no gift really seemed heartfelt and true to him. I decided to forgo the transparency that comes with gift-giving and asked my friend what to get him. Not far off from the vaping and econ scene, he sent me a link to a Vineyard Vines baseball cap he had been eyeing. He mentioned that, somehow, he had no struggle finding a gift for me. Reciprocating my honesty and exhibiting his inability to keep a secret, he offered to tell me what my present was. Hating secrets, I jumped at the opportunity to know. He gifted me something I didn’t expect or want, but something I didn’t know I needed.
He gifted me fashion.
He gifted me art.
He gifted me utility.
He gifted me life.
He gifted me Heelys.
Remember Heelys? The popular shoe that revolutionized walking in the mid-late 2000s might seem irrelevant, but they boast almost 200,000 Instagram followers. With a removable wheel in the heel, elementary and middle schoolers could transform their plain-old sneakers into highly mobile footwear. Despite reports of broken wrists, arms, and ankles, Heelys were pivotal in the fashion repertoire of any ~cool~ kid at that time. Although they lost their relevance as our generation went off to high school and college, Heelys have the possibility to make a resurgence. Heelys’ newest fashion line of canvas sneakers caters all the way up to Size 15 shoe. In a sleek black design, these shoes match almost any outfit (and are perfect for the street)! With a design mirroring Vans or Keds, the fact that these shoes are Heelys isn’t quite obvious to a random passerby, (Would you even want to hide the fact that you’re wearing Heelys from the world)?
I view my Princeton career in two main sections: Princeton before I knew I was getting Heelys for Christmas and Princeton after I knew I was getting Heelys for Christmas. Besides providing a comforting reminder of when my mom had to tie my Heelys (7th grade), they grant a perfectly memorable way to enter and exit any room. From the slightly inclined floor of McCosh 50 to the TI dance floor, people would be in awe of my steps and slides. After finishing a midterm, I would Heely down the aisle of the auditorium to turn it in. Performing one of the Ds of bystander intervention, I could Heely my way into the situation as the ultimate distraction. Do I even need a bike anymore? Do Heelys have the possibility to dismantle the bike culture at Princeton? I have quick and easy transport at my fingertips (or would it be toetips?). I never need to lock up my Heelys like a bike. Forbes Brunch might be a long walk, but it’s a short Heely away. Providing transport, clout, fashion, and function, Heelys are a go-to gift for any Princetonian this holiday season.
After Christmas, when I actually receive my Heelys, I imagine that I’ll break them in, surrounded by friends, on the steepest slope on campus. Their faces will shine brightly with smiles as they watch me zoom down Washington Road. While Heelys won’t change my life forever, friends that are willing to put in the time and effort to think of and find the ~perfect~ gift (even if it hasn’t been relevant in over a decade) have changed and will forever continue to change my life for the better. This is the true meaning of the Christmas season.
Disclosure: This article was sponsored by Heelys. However, my thoughts and opinions remain my own. Use Promo Code: NASS2018 for 100% off.