Everyone knows the Nike Air Max 95 OG “Neon”. Right? Or, at least, we all think we do. I mean, we all know what the shoe looks like and that it’s been popular for donkey's years. But have you asked why that is? Have you asked how it has been consistently “breaking necks” for over 30 years?

Too often, we just accept a shoe is popular because it just is, usually stating “well, it’s an Air Max 95, it’s a classic”. I’m not arguing that it isn’t, I’m just questioning how that all came to be.

That first “shoe contact” (not my phrase btw), just like eye contact, is extremely important. Especially in 1995, when wandering into your local sports shop was typically the first time you would see the latest running shoes.

What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think we give the “Neon” colourway enough credit. We need to appreciate how creator Sergio Lozano designed a shoe that leapt out from a wall full of rubber and mesh. More importantly, we need to recognise why it caught the eye of people across the globe, not just the runners of Portland who it was designed for.

Before the Nike Air Max 95 arrived, it was the standard for the Air Max series to come bearing a white midsole. White had long been a symbol for the technical and aspirational within sport, a trait that had started with ‘tennis whites’ in the late 19th century.

Running shoes in the ‘70s simply mimicked the leisure chic trend brought about by Plimsoles before them, the Air Max’s white-heavy approach was just a response to what already existed at the time.

It wasn’t until the Air Max 95 that designer Sergio Lozano threw out the entire playbook. This caused friction internally as, the black midsole was an enormous risk for the Swoosh, taking its pinnacle Air Max franchise into unknown territory. Designed for the trail runners of Oregon, the darkened midsole would help hide the dirt, and with them in mind, the suburban joggers were sidelined.

Sure, the black midsole was a change, one that Nike itself didn’t realise the weight of. Breaking decades worth of stereotypes and expectations carried by the white sports shoes, the design was both technically brilliant and a symbol for change. Embracing the spirit of the ‘90s, the 110 said running is for everyone.

Alongside the black midsole, Lozano’s use of “Neon” or volt, as the accenting colour was masterful. On the 110, volt occupies only a fraction of the surface area, yet it defines the entire silhouette. It had a gravitational pull, drawing in anyone scanning the wall of shoes for sale.

Just watch any Air Max documentary or Just For Kicks (2005) and it would tell you the exact same thing: seeing that shoe on the wall of your local sports shop in 1995 shattered people’s preconceptions of what a running shoe was supposed to look like.

Here, neon meant innovation. The neon mini-Swoosh signalled an emphasis on design: no longer did the Swoosh logo stretch across the entire side, the layered panelling too beautiful for that, a sign of Lozano’s faith in his own work. The "Speed-Lacing" was highlighted by the accented eyelets, once again drawing your attention to change.

The Air units stood out more than ever thanks to the contrasting midsole, a 3D pop that drew in runners, sneakerheads and fashion heads like moths to a flame.

No matter how long you’ve been a sneakerhead, you would have likely heard the old “did you know the Air Max 95 was inspired by the human body?”. As soon as you know that, the shoe suddenly makes a lot more sense. It’s very much an “aha!” moment for newcomers.

That hit of 3M on the rear was inspired by the spine’s vertebrae disks. The webbed mesh by the laces? Inspired by muscle fibre and tendons. The vertical textures hidden among the side wall panelling – they were inspired by the rib cage. However, the wavy panelling drew from nature, playing on the idea of erosion.

It's also worth taking note of Lozano’s degree in industrial design, after all, it’s not like neon accents occur naturally on the human body. No, these are the elements that make the shoe feel alive and mechanical at the same time. Its organic form meets industrial design. Taking note from the bold colours that act purely as function on warning signs and labels, the bolder volt was his message.

While the UK didn’t create the shoe, it certainly recognised it. To Britons, there was a familiar desire for the neon 110. It may have been designed for the runner out in rainy Portland, Oregon, but the weather this side of the pond made it an awfully good match.

Head North West to Liverpool, the so-called home of the 110, and you’ll find the drizzle and cloudy sky makes it a necessity for everyday life. Or as Sam from The Block P puts it, "There'll always be a core in Liverpool that only wears 110s." Britain’s grey, industrial palette made the AM95 feel visually fluent. The gradient upper mirrored overcast skies; the Volt cut through them.

Mid-90s Britain was also in the middle of its own cultural surge. Britpop was dominating global charts, the Spice Girls were exporting a new kind of brash confidence, and British youth culture felt newly self-assured. In a country that was loudly embracing the new, the Air Max 95’s sharp contrast and visible innovation felt timely. 

People latched onto that hit of volt, to them it represented a move against conformity, a far cry from Lozano's originally intended logic. After all, the best products go on to live a life of their own.

This unintended openness of the Air Max 95 “OG Neon” is why the shoe is so brilliant. It was, and still is, for everyone. Or, at least, anyone who could afford the £110 price tag (now £175, inflation is alive and well). 

Celebrities like Tom Cruise rocked them on the set of Eyes Wide Shut, Sporty Spice would tour the world in them and street dealers from London to Liverpool would proudly stomp pavement in them. Oh, and runners too, of course.

The US, Australia and Japan also contributed towards the Air Max 95 lore, from the kids in Brooklyn who were "jumping off the porch" for them, to the Ura-Harajuku teens paying up to ¥60,000 (approximately $700) just to get them on-feet.

Wherever and whoever you were, the Air Max 95 “Neon” stayed the same, it was the world around it that was constantly changing. But why is it so universally loved? Well, that could be boiled down to  Lozano’s honest and functional design. No features for feature’s sake, but an intentional story. No cheap tricks, yet a shoe with real purpose.

JD got it spot on with its 2026 Neon retro campaign. Tapping into Liverpool’s rising music star Kasst8 alongside Louis Theroux is a combination that shouldn’t make any sense, but does. Two people pushing the cultural envelope in the UK, both laced up in Neon 110s. Genius.

Nike Air Max archive Block P  Block P in Liverpool is busy building a community around the 110 with fit pics reaffirming the shoe’s cultural cool and moodboards romanticising moments from the past, recycling its cult legacy. The Neon’s lore is arguably stronger than ever.

From now on, I hope you appreciate as I do, the massive shift that the Nike Air Max 95 OG Neon represents. A shoe with such a real intention, it has gone on to form a story of its own. A shoe with no loyalties. A shoe that has your back no matter what.

If you’ve never owned a pair of neons, then now’s your chance. Get ‘em on and add to the story.