When it comes to Carvelas I’ve always been like the kid in a toy shop. I can’t get enough of them – their shape, colour, the smell of the leather. I am like a child who sits in front of his house all day with his eyes wide open watching the mighty Carvelians paint the town blue, brown, beige, red and even green. Sadly, though, a pair has always been that one thing I desperately want, but couldn’t have. Then my sister got a bonus, and of course my new mission became to convince her that I would die if I didn’t get some.

As all Carvelians do, I went to the legendary Spitz shoe shop.

I was sure that a pair of these would win me the love of Siphosethu. But winning her love was going to remain a dream if I didn’t convince my sister to buy them for me.

My first thought, as I walked into this famous shop, was that I was in a lollipop factory. The colours, the designs, the smell of fancy leather and even the shiny floors exploded in my eyes.

When I managed to calm myself down and stop drooling over the shoes, I noticed a bunch of Carvelians standing inside. One was trying on a dark-brown, ankle-boot version of the basic Carvela.

I approached him, feeling nervous, and cleared my throat like all speech-makers do. This was, after all, a job for Sicelo, the Tsotsi-taal professor.

“Yho, hayi iyak’hlala, mf’ethu, nca!” I said. (I’m guessing that the English version would probably be: “Yo, dawg, that looks dope on you, for real!”)

“You think so?” he asked, a slight grin across his face.

“Nakanjani, mf’ethu!” I assured him. (“For real, dawg!”) Then, remembering what I was here for, I asked him: “Tell me, bra, how can I convince my sister that this is the greatest shoe ever designed? Because she would never listen if I told her that I need these to get a girl.”

“It’s easy, dawg! Tell her that if she loves you, she must prove it to the world by making sure you have style. You can’t walk into kwaMzoli or Italians and think that chicks will even look at you if you can’t afford Spitz!”

A friend told me that Italians is a great kasi club with lots of chicks, and that all you need is a nice watch and a cool T-shirt, but I was not about to argue with this guy. And before I could even respond, four more guys and five chicks had joined our conversation. This was a debate that I was not going to win so I stepped back and just listened.

From one chick, I heard: “Chommie, do you remember that guy that I was ignoring kwaAce, last week?”

“The one who was wearing those brown Grasshoppers, nhe?” the second chick joined in.

And the third one wrapped it all up, adding: “Did he really think he could afford you, chommie?! What an idiot, shame!”

From the guys all I overheard was: “Yho, mf’ethu, I went to Ace last month with Dakotas on and I only got numbers from three chicks; but guess what happened when I had my red Carvelas on? One chick just gave me her number before I even asked her for it, bra!”

So, did I succeed in convincing my sister? Yes. I got fresh new pair of Carvelas. But did I get the girl?

For sure … but the stupid thing is she didn’t even notice my shoes!

She tells me she likes me, not because I can afford Carvelas, but because I recite poetry to her and I buy her ice cream and dark chocolate.

Basically, look neat, be kind, and find something special about yourself and I promise you, you won’t need to be a Carvelian.

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