Somehow, despite the stealth camo cardigan, I detected this woman amongst the track fans at Drake stadium. Was it the pink-pink-my-watch-is-pink, or the custom Nikes developed with a chroma-crushing machine that smooshes color particles together under very high pressure such that the resulting volatile suspension has a half life? Or was it the fact that, even though she's swaddled neck to toe, she is not wearing sweat swags that speak to a loss of one quarter of her total body weight like I everyone else was.
Because I didn't see enough swooshes over the weekend, put on your post-retinal surgery glasses and have a gander at these kicks.
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