While most sneaker brands are busy shouting about “hype,” KEEN is more interested in doing the work. For over two decades, the Portland-based family-run label has lived by a simple but stubbornly radical motto: do good. It may sound simple, and well, that’s kind of the point: KEEN isn’t just in the business of shoes, but in the business of showing up. But in New York, showing up is one thing—keeping up is another. From sprinting for the subway in SoHo to hitting a well-trodden trail in Prospect Park, KEEN’s sneakers are built for the Big Apple’s notorious reroutes that double your commute, detours that turn a ten-minute trek into a scenic tour you didn’t ask for, and weekend “service changes” that make you question every life choice. In other words: shoes that don’t just walk the walk, but schlepp the schlepp.
Enter Aya Brown: New York-born, New York-rooted, and in the truest sense, New York-loyal. A visual artist whose work isn’t just displayed but breathed into the neighborhoods she calls home, Aya’s renowned works spotlight the everyday realities of queer Black and brown lives, weaving together narratives of labor, queerness, equity, and resilience. There’s art that whispers, and then there’s Aya’s work—bold, unflinching, and impossible to ignore. The Brooklyn visionary has made it her mission to document the faces that make New York what it really is: complex, beautiful, and unapologetically human.
Laced up in KEEN’s climbing-classic-meets-city-stride Jasper line, we tapped Aya to lead us on a not-so-basic walking tour of the city, spotlighting the ungoogleable, IYKYK spots that aren’t swarmed by slowwalking tourists with selfie sticks and zero sidewalk spatial awareness. We’re stepping off the feed and into the streets: this is Aya Brown’s New York.
MARKING TRAILS
Born in 1973, the Café became a home for spoken word and cultural resistance in the East Village. Aya first came here on a middle school trip, nervously reading poetry on stage. That early moment of being heard shaped her love for self-expression and kept the Café close to her ever since.
Since 1976, Casa Adela has been the heartbeat of Loisaida, serving Puerto Rican food with soul. Aya was introduced to it by a close friend, and it quickly became a place of comfort and community. When the restaurant nearly closed during the pandemic, Aya saw the neighborhood rally, proving food can preserve culture as much as it feeds people.
What began in 1976 as a reclaimed lot is now one of the East Village’s most cherished community gardens. Aya is still uncovering its history, but the garden represents a gathering place where neighbors connect, eat, and share. With KEEN’s donation to expand the space, La Plaza shows how nature and community thrive when tended together.
Family-run since the early ’90s, Oro Latino has been a Chinatown landmark for milestones and memories. It’s where Aya bought her first big check piece, and Tommy treated her like family from day one. His honesty–sometimes telling her not to buy–made the shop about care, not transaction.
