Shod

In the shoe store, I've never been a loafer guy. Especially not the casual, virtually shapeless, canvas kinds worn without socks. And definitely not those velvet, so-called Venetian, slipper sorts that seem ridiculously impractical for negotiating canals and gondolas. Both are more appropriate for a Turkish brothel rather than city streets. 

And speaking of houses of ill-repute, what depths of professional and aesthetic depravity were plumbed by the cobbler's workshop that first stitched decorative tassels on a client's loafer? Tassels belong on a Vegas showgirl's costume and nowhere else. That shoemaker was obviously aided by the wrong sort of elves.

As for penny loafers, well, even the name sounds cheap. 'Golden doubloon' loafers I might consider, but only for wearing around the house pretending to be a pirate. I'd never allow myself to be seen outside in such an insult to proper footwear. In fact, if you ask me, any shoe that lacks laces can be classified as resort-wear. 

But, for me, such rigid rule-making ends below the ankle. I'm happy to clothe the rest of myself in sporty socks, blue jeans, open-necked shirts and chore coats. I've even been known to opt for a pair of Bermuda shorts if the weather is unbearably hot and humid. So I'm not sure how or why I became a draconian tyrant about shoes. Draco himself surely wore open-toed sandals, which always leaves me wondering how any self-respecting Athenian could have taken him and his tedious laws seriously. 

I suppose we can make an exception for Italians wearing loafers, but only in the south and when lounging beside the sea. 'Dolce far niente' is a very good excuse, after all, and only a fool would argue with its wisdom. Besides, it would be rude and unseemly to impede your neighborhood passeggiata by kneeling down in the middle of the sidewalk to re-tie a shoelace that's come undone. 

On second thoughts, perhaps I should begin envisaging myself as a loafer guy. When all is said and done, it seems that sitting at cafe tables in the sun while talking nonsense and pontificating is all I'm good for in these days of enforced retirement. And that's the loafer lifestyle in a slip-on nutshell. Thank you for letting me talk this out with you. I'm thankful for your time.