SNEAK ATTACK

By TOM SYKES, New York Post

PEOPLE fighting over rare merchandise at a tiny downtown boutique is par for the course in Manhattan. But when those people are grown men, and they've spent all night waiting in freezing temps to buy a pair of sneakers - as they did last week for limited edition, $300 Nike Pigeon Dunks at an Orchard Street shop - they make the most debt-ridden fashionista look sane.

"Guys go crazy for sneakers in the way that girls go crazy for Manolo Blahniks," says Jimmy Jellinek, editor in chief of Complex magazine, a sneaker collector's bible.

Even New York sneakerheads like Carlo Castro were shocked by the frenzy at the Orchard Street shop, where a fight broke out but no arrests were made.

"It was kind of unbelievable to me that people would wait in line that long. But they see Pharrell [Williams] wearing these dunks, so they want them," explained Castro, referring to the hip-hop superstar. (Williams is also co-owner of his own sneaker/clothing shop in SoHo, called A Bathing Ape.)

The sneaker-fetish scene revolves around the twin poles of eBay and the city's ultra-exclusive boutiques - some have no signs, others no storefronts - where staff and customers talk about sneakers with the rapture of wine connoisseurs discussing great vintages.

Rather than relying on big-bucks advertising, word of mouth is king at the city's specialty sneaker temples - mostly clustered on the Lower East Side.

At stake are bragging rights to be the first, or only, person in your neighborhood to have that exclusive shoe - or, alternately, the chance to make some serious money by reselling it on eBay.

The most sought-after sneakers, like the Nike Pigeon Dunk, are produced in limited editions.

"Basically, this is the same formula of limited releases that the sneaker companies were using in the '80s," says Dave Ortiz, the owner of tiny sneaker emporium Dave's Quality Meat.

"Everyone goes bananas because they can get one pair of 500," Ortiz says. "Smaller boutiques like us fuel the fire, because the kids who shop here are the 'influencers' - they inspire the broader masses. They get bragging rights from that unique pair of sneakers."

The most sought-after models are limited-edition collaborations between street artists and the big companies.

"It's all about heritage," says Jellinek, noting that by purchasing a pair of Nikes with "built-in nostalgia" the wearer also stakes a claim "to all Nikes that came before it - all the influences of hip-hop and skating - that go into that sneaker's DNA."

It's also all about knowing where half these stores are even located - and how to get in.

The Alife (pronounced A-life) Rivington Club is one of the city's premier sneaker shops, even though it's totally unmarked and you have to be buzzed in through a security door.

Single sneakers are displayed in mahogany shelving, with the more expensive, limited-edition items - which can top out at $400 - locked away in glass cases like museum exhibits.

Nom de Guerre, whose customers include Giorgio Armani, is a sprawling subterranean store accessible via a cellar staircase and marked only by a small plaque on the pavement. The most expensive pair of sneaks on sale are an $800 pair of Slim Shady Nikes.

"Fifty percent of customers are genuine collectors," said manager Angelo Baque, 26. "Fifty percent are buying to resell on eBay - these kids can turn $300 into $1,500 overnight. When I was 16, I made $4.25 an hour at McDonald's."

The other day, David Willson, 20, who drops more than $100 on sneakers "a couple of times a year," was browsing.

"I like to get a few pair of good sneakers for going out every year," he said.

"For school or everyday, I am like everyone else," he said. "I just buy cheap ones from Century 21."

Spoken like a true Blahnik-loving fashionista.