There’s no sneaker culture without Black culture. As we approach Black History Month, Foot Locker has announced its second Sole List class, which highlights, celebrates, and amplifies the work, identity, and passion of changemakers in the sneaker and fashion industry alike.
These photographers are breaking down the barriers and are reclaiming the Black image and narrative with their work.
We had a chance to talk with photographers Joshua Renfroe, Flo Ngala, and Andy Jackson to learn more about their journeys, their work, and what it’s like to be recognized by Foot Locker and its Sole List award.
Joshua Renfroe
Tuskegee, AL
SS: Since summer 2020, brands and retailers pay were more intentional about giving Black creatives and Black artists their proper due and platform to showcase their work. What’s changed for you in the space and in your work?
JR: It’s bittersweet. It shouldn’t take horrific moments like what happened in s220 to help people realize they should be more intentional and active in telling Black stories. I also mark it as a transformative era where we can share what we’re passionate about. To have larger visibility to the work that has always been done in Black culture.
SS: What influences your creative process in capturing inherent Black storytelling?
JR: Anything and everything. Within my arty, I like to intermix a reality with fantasy. With that, I like capturing a familiar environment but utilizing the concept of how everything comes to life whether post-production or color grading, etc., as decoration to make it feel cinematic. I like taking something relatable and making it feel cinematic. Cinema is a big influence. I feel more connected to work that reflects a personal experience or things that I personally admire.
SS: What’s it like to be at this point in your career?
JR: It feels good. I feel very grateful for everything I’ve accomplished and experienced. There is a larger vision, a goal that I’m every striving for. The reality of knowing your potential. While you should celebrate yourself and what you accomplish, you’re just scratching the surface of your potential. I have so many ideas I want to explore and execute. It’s exciting knowing that I have them. It’s on me to hold myself accountable to do the work and make the connections to get where I want to be.
SS: I remember scrolling through your Instagram and seeing an image that read “Black Boy Fly,“ and I immediately thought of Kendrick Lamar’s song in good kid, m.A.A.d city. What inspired that and how did it come about?
JR: You hit the nail right on the head. It was inspired by that track, I remember reading it and it stuck with me. It served as a double entendre to me. Obviously, as a nod to Black men for our aesthetic that is so appropriated and appreciated. And also a call to action for Black men to soar and fly amidst all the obstacles in society. It derives from that Kendrick track. There were two white women who did a book analyzing the “Darker the Berry;” it felt interesting someone, not of Black culture, doing something like that and profiting off Black culture. I felt like it should come from someone Black. Part of it was in response to taking back ownership of Black culture. The genesis of it is self-love, ownership, and artistic freedom.
Self-love: when I moved to NY, I had this new sense of pride in being Black. I always loved being Black and my culture, but when I entered a more industry-facing community I started to see things I love growing up right before my eyes. I had a different interaction, and I was appreciative that this is what my culture produces. Also in totality when thinking about the leasers that paved the way.
Ownership: I wanted to do something authentic that was for Black culture created by someone in the Black community to combat the entities that profit off the Black aesthetic. We should be the primary beneficiaries. This was my way of doing that. There are so many ways to, but at the moment I saw this as a great benefit as a young Black man to create a piece of art that people can purchase that celebrates the culture. If people like aren’t doing it, who will?
Artist freedom: When you are connected with your purpose, you start to be intentional about the moves you make and your legacy. I wanted to make a project where I didn’t have anyone to answer to. It was a personal passion project to promote as a purchasable book. There are chains of commands and phases to get something to the masses. For me, I felt empowered by the idea that I can do it without a publishing deal or the biggest names in the industry.
SS: What’s it like to be a part of the Sole List 2022 class?
JR: It means a lot. I’ve sat with this for a while. It’s special and nostalgic. I grew up going to Foot Locker, and it was an integral part of what I was inspired by as a kid. I started remembering the memories of going to the mall with my older brother and we would check the directory to see if they had a Foot Locker. I remember loving the referee uniforms and wanting to wear them. It felt cool and the hip-hop ambiance was a dope part of my upbringing.
It was a highlight for a lot of people who got a new pair of sneakers either for the holidays or for the first day of school. You have a sentimental connection. I take that experience to being a hard-working artist and now being acknowledged by Foot Locker and to be on a large platform to share my art is a nice full-circle moment.
SS: What’s the legacy you wish to leave for Black youth and the culture as a whole?
JR: I think of it as the duality of the man and the art. I hope people see me as someone who was resilient, ambitious, and loved life. I know challenges present themselves, but I want to be viewed as someone intentional in creating a happy space.
As an artist, I want people to feel a special emotion when they view my work even if they don’t know me. I want them to feel how I felt when I started to experience great photography. It’s escapism, even if it’s for a couple of seconds. It’s a launchpad for great conversation, At a minimum, seeing and acknowledging [my art] is an honor.
Flo Ngala
New York, NY
SS: In summer 2020, a lot was going on. Emotions, protesting, and advocacy within the Black community and abroad. As a result, brands, retailers, and partners were finally giving creatives their platform and resources though under not-so-ideal circumstances. What’s changed for you?
Flo Ngala: I remember going from being in the endemic in the house to protesting. It was important to engage as a Black artist and a Black woman. The duality of my own life hit me fast. I’m being asked by the New York Times, GQ, and other magazines. I knew these images were coming because of people’s pain. My job is to translate and communicate with my feelings and images. Coming back to Black History Month and moving forward in a pandemic, not all of the problems have been fixed. It does mean a lot that this is another step in the right direction for representation.
SS: Throughout history, Black women have been at the forefront of social justice movements but in society as well. As a Black woman, how much did your identity impact your perspective in the industry and world at large?
FN: The way I see and approach the world has to do with the culmination of my experiences. I grew up a figure skater and my parents are West African immigrants. Within my passions and hobbies, there aren’t people who look like me. I’ve pushed myself to put my own narrative out there. I’m lucky enough to translate that into my work. I try to extract that integrity and reality of things out of my images.
I think the way I grew up and the expressions of Blackness I saw in Harlem inspired me and the way I saw New York, the music industry, and the fashion world.
SS: Your work captures that very spectrum from photographing Cardi B to Stacey Abrams. What’s it like to be a part of these pockets in the industry?
FN: It means the world to me 26 and a half. I started taking pics at 21. I started off with heavy-hitters like Gucci mane and Cardi B, who are iconic artists and leaders of the culture. To be vetted by that caliber of artists meant a lot.
From there, I’ve been able to work across music, politics, and so on, and so forth, and it speaks to the beauty of what happens when the playing fields are leveraged. I marathoned with these opportunities. There are so many who deserve that.
The pressure is being pushed on companies that diversity and inclusion is prioritized. I’m seeing what happens when the pressure is applied correctly, giving myself my peers, and others to make something out of those opportunities.
SS: It’s a testament to you and your work that you’re working with Black individuals, Black women specifically, who are not only influential but grounded in their work and in their beliefs.
FN: It’s cool to be in that atmosphere. I remember working with Cardi B in 2019 and being trusted with her image, which was huge especially when she was pregnant and then the MET Gala. Not anyone is allowed. There is a trust factor that has to be there. It goes back to my upbringing and my life where certain experiences and moments help me be great at what I do.
SS: What’s it like for you and your career to be a part of Foot Locker’s Sole List?
FN: Being able to be on this platform means a lot. The process behind it and the intention I really appreciate. I see how important to have your set and crew reflect the talent and the production process.
In general, Foot Locker is a cultural staple. In my own neighborhood, I remember going to Jimmy Jazz during Back-to-School. It’s a full-circle moment knowing that I can go into one and see my work.
SS: What’s the legacy you wish to leave behind?
FN: I want to represent a young person who came and did things in her own way. Not in a rebellious way, but in me being outspoken and excited. I want people photographed by me that they see something that makes them feel seen.
We’re only decades into being at the forefront of our own image and image-making. I want to represent what it looks like to control our own narrative and use our talents, voices, skillsets, and genius. I want people to know and understand aside from the social and political elements of identity politics, it’s important for me to remind people that a good photograph is a good photograph. I believe in quality stuff to push myself. I never want to get too comfortable or pigeonholed. The art form itself can move you and touch you when done well with intention, and that’s what my work represents.
I want to make an image so good that people can’t help but ask who took this picture. I want to leave an impact that represents excellence and Black excellence.
Andy Jackson
Camden, DE
SS: Summer 2020, a lot changed. Discourse, protest, emotions. Late but nonetheless, brands gave Black artists, creatives, and people a platform and an opportunity to shine. Since then, what’s changed for you?
AJ: For me, it was being able to have the opportunity to properly showcase the different facets of the culture and different people. I never really had the chance to do so. When you’re an artist, there’s a lot of emphasis on diversity.
Despite you coming from a diverse background, that’s not enough, especially in the fashion industry. For me, there was never room to show my personal background as an African-American person.
Then everything started happening, then I felt like I didn’t need to be apologetic for showing my culture while being comfortable and confident in showing different facts of Black people is enough as well after 2020.
SS: There’s an evident progression in your work that showcases that unapologetic Blackness. It’s visible that you’re comfortable in your work.
AJ: I was never uncomfortable doing it, but I was doing certain things before to make it feel like I was being inclusive and thinking it would be leading to more opportunities. After everything that happened, I realized that I didn’t need to adhere to those formulas.
SS: What’s your creative process?
AJ: It’s about starting with a moodboard and putting things together that I like that are abstract. I tend to not add images to my moodboard of artists around the same time period that I am because it’s easy for a client to ask me to do something that somebody else is doing. I try to pull from older work and abstract inspiration. Most importantly, personal experiences.
I did a fashion editorial in fall 2020, and the inspiration was that gaudy aunty who likes to wear big jewelry and has a kitty wig. That feeling of “I know that aunty” was my inspiration. My own personal lived in African experiences of fashion and culture.
SS: What’s the transition of Delaware to New York been for you and your work?
AJ: I don’t think about it as much now. The biggest thing was the quick pace in New York. There are so many things that I can still relate to. It wasn’t too crazy or shocking, but it’s been a change of pace. It’s loud everywhere.
The juxtaposition of country life to city life is different. Delaware is changing a little bit since there’s culture injected into it. But New York is its own bubble. It took me time to get used to it, but I feel so intertwined in New York culture that whenever I go home, I feel like there are a lot of different things I experience.
SS: You’ve done some impressive work with key figures already. What’s it like to be here at this stage in your career?
AJ: It’s shocking. I’m the kind of person who likes to achieve things quickly; I’m a go-getter. I’m very confident, not narcissistic but confident. For me, I know I’m going to get to this point, and I’m going o do everything I can to get here in a short amount of time. I’ve put myself out there. Already having defined taste and exploring things and ideas helps.
I’ve only been shooting for five years, and in the fashion industry for six, and I’m still under my 30s. Having that overconfidence but taking the time to research is what helped me to get here quickly. I’m still forever grateful and forever humble because I know it’s not easy to get here so quickly. It’s amazing to see that so many people root for me and like my work.
Over a year later, I shot all these cool people after leaving my full-time job.
SS: What was it like leaving your job to pursue photography?
AJ: I was actually let go, And it’s okay to experience humiliation in saying that. That was one of the hardest moments in my life. Then February everything was getting serious and then in March, everything shut down.
I was spiraling and didn’t know what to do next. I was at a standstill. It took me a while to get back to a good place. At that point, I wasn’t freelancing, but then going into June 2020, I got an offer to do a small shoot for Teen Vogue, and from there that’s where my freelance career came up, and started to work with a lot of Black talent, creators, and actors.
That’s where I felt the nice freedom of it and felt the difference of not being happy in an office job.
SS: What’s the feeling you wish to give people when they see york work?
AJ: I want people to see themselves in it and relate to them. “I’m seeing this mirror of myself.” I also want people to feel the same emotions that the talent is experiencing as well. Emotion is very important in depicting people in my work.
SS: What’s it like to be here as a part of Sole List and to be widely recognized for your work?
AJ: It’s an honor; I can’t believe got to this point to have a company supporting believing in my work and wanting to amplify it. It’s surprising but also very exciting. I’m happy and still reeling in and thinking how I got this far. That’s what’s honoring about it. It’s also a testament to how hard-working I’ve been in the past year and how my work has reached so many people in this time.
SS: What’s the legacy you wish you leave behind?
AJ: I want to show and depict that you can see all different kinds of people and all different facets of life. My thing right now is to show Black people in fashion. We don’t have to be put in one bracket. I want that to be shown and depicted in pop culture. And that’s the impact I’m gravitating towards right now.
Congrats to Joshua, Flo, and Andy. You can learn more about Foot Locker’s Sole List here. Stay tuned to SoleSavy for more sneaker and fashion news across the industry.
