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(Op-Ed) Creative Vision or Cultural Negligence?

  • Mars
  • May 30
  • 4 min read

I was scrolling through Instagram when I saw them—a clean pair of Nikes in red, green, and gold. My first reaction was excitement. Finally, I thought, a proper Rasta or Ethiopian-inspired colorway. We haven’t seen one in years, and it felt overdue. But as I looked closer, I realized this wasn’t what I thought. It was a Lil Yachty collab. And just like that, my whole perspective shifted.


That red, green, and gold combo doesn’t just look good—it means something. And when you see a shoe rocking those exact tones, there’s an expectation of acknowledgment. When that’s missing, it doesn’t sit right.


Not Just Colors: A Cultural Legacy


Red, green, and gold are more than a design palette—they’re sacred to the African diaspora. Red symbolizes life force, energy, and celebration. Gold represents joy, warmth, and abundance, often tied to the sun. Green speaks to growth, harmony, and nature. These colors hold deep roots in Pan-African, Ethiopian, and Rasta traditions.


For me, wearing those colors is a power statement. I’ve studied Rasta and Ethiopian culture—not as an expert, but enough to understand that these aren’t just fashion choices. They’re symbols of sovereignty and strength. Ethiopia, along with Liberia, was one of the only African nations to maintain its independence through colonization. That pride is embedded in the flag, and in the colorway.


A History of Doing It Right


This isn’t the first time brands have tapped into red, green, and gold—but some have done it with intention. Take Berner and his Cookies line, for example. When he dropped a red, green, and gold collection, he did it in partnership with the Peter Tosh estate. Tosh’s name was stamped on the apparel, which tells me he made sure there was both acknowledgment and probably compensation involved. That’s the right way to do it.


Even LRG gets it right. I’ve got a red, green, and gold wallet from them right now. They might not always team up with estates or cultural reps, but their designs are clearly influenced by and respectful of Rasta and Pan-African roots. As a cannabis lifestyle brand, it fits authentically within their lane.


Even Adidas, when they occasionally drop a Rasta or Ethiopian-inspired shoe, usually include some form of nod to the culture. And let’s be real—these colorways don’t come around often. Maybe every five years, if that. So when they do, it matters.


Where Nike and Yachty Missed the Mark


I want to be clear: I don’t think Lil Yachty was trying to be malicious. This doesn’t feel like an intentional swipe at a culture. It’s more likely he didn’t consider how heavy that colorway hits for people who recognize its origins. But Nike? They’ve been in this game way too long not to know better.


They’ve done country-based drops before. They’ve worked directly with cultural themes and communities. So when a shoe drops with the exact shades of the Ethiopian and Rasta flags, you expect some kind of acknowledgment—a flag detail on the sole, a quote, even just a mention in the promo run. But there was nothing. And that silence turns what could’ve been a tribute into a questionable flex.


Hype Over Heritage in Sneaker Culture


The Yachty collab fits into a larger trend I’ve seen in hip hop and streetwear culture—where hype and celebrity co-signs often outweigh quality, creativity, or cultural awareness. Supreme’s rise off Dipset and red block tees despite complaints about quality. Chrome Hearts charging wild prices while leaning on the cool factor of being seen on folks like Wiz Khalifa. I saw Wiz rocking Chrome Hearts during his 420 Red Rocks show and again during his press run interviews. That visibility alone boosts demand, even if the story behind the design isn’t strong.


Yachty’s shoe is riding that same wave. The design itself didn’t create the hype—his name did. People online were hyped because he made the shoe, not because it carried deep meaning. Meanwhile, folks dropping flag emojis in the comments were drowned out by the praise. And I can’t help but wonder—if this was just a red, green, and gold shoe without Yachty’s name on it, would it have made the same noise?


This Isn’t About Hate, It’s About Awareness


I’m not here to bash Lil Yachty. But I am calling out a moment of missed awareness—from him, and especially from Nike. When you use colors that carry generations of meaning, you can’t just call it fashion. Cultural symbols deserve respect. Whether that means collaborating with someone connected to that history, or simply acknowledging the roots—that matters.


This isn’t just about a shoe. It’s about the way our culture gets lifted for style, while its meaning gets left behind. That’s the deeper issue—when brands and artists borrow from our aesthetics but leave the essence out. It happens quietly, almost invisibly, until you realize the symbols you grew up with are being repackaged and sold back to you with none of the soul.


So no, I’m not mad at the idea of Lil Yachty having a sneaker. I’m saying if you’re going to use one of the most culturally charged colorways in the Black world, you need to know what it means. And if you know what it means, you’ve got a responsibility to say something.


There’s room for creativity and culture to live together. But creativity without respect isn’t innovation—it’s erasure. My hope is that moving forward, artists and brands recognize that difference. Because for us, red, green, and gold isn’t just a color combo. It’s history, pride, resistance, and power. And when you wear it, you wear all of that too.

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