Well-fitting shoes are worth paying the price

Some of the most powerful forces that affect humankind are astonishingly the most simple.

If, in the words of William Congreve, "Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast"; and if food is the way to a man's heart, then where might footwear, "if the shoe fits," rank?

It's gotta be up there (the shoes, that is). Growing up, all I wore were sneakers. Converse, Pro-Keds, anything rubber-soled that enabled me to run all day. Problem is, sneakers wear out quickly.

Since entering the workforce in my teenage years, shoes became more of a priority. Shoes are obviously more appropriate than sneakers in professional work environments, and can be resoled. The comfort factor is most important, given that I am on my feet a lot at work.

Purchasing shoes that are visually appealing but do not fit correctly is a waste of money, even when they're on sale, and potentially painful to wear. Having done this more than once, I have only myself to blame.

That got me thinking ... what price would I be willing to pay for a comfortable pair of shoes?

The short answer is the amount that is at least as much as I value comfort ... but hopefully the price is negotiable.

I have worn shoes made in the U.S. (Alden, Allen-Edmonds, Cole-Haan, H.S. Trask), France (Paraboot), England (Gieves & Hawkes, Charles Tyrwhitt, Edward Green), and Italy (Fratelli-Rosetti and Damiano Chiappini). While each shoemaker has different designs and price points, the common denominator is they're all comfortable.

My latest acquisition is a pair of two-tone, handmade Stefano Branchini shoes, which retail for thousands of dollars. Branchini shoes have been worn by the likes of Sir Elton John and outgoing California Gov. Arnold Schwarznegger. Branchini shoes feature side stitching, leather-tipped laces, embossing on bottom of the sole, and metal eyelets. Here's a look at what I mean:




When I tried them on, the Branchinis fit like a glove and carry a bold look. Even on sale (which they were when I got them), the bottom-line price was hefty but within the acceptable range of what I was willing to pay. (No, I'm not telling.) They are a one-of-a-kind purchase; comfortable and elegant.



With proper maintenance, I'm sure to get plenty of mileage out of these shoes, though they're not meant to be worn every day. I certainly will not keep them in a box and allow them to catch dust, either. Branchinis are a great find when they're on sale. The Bologna-based shoemaker's attention to detail is admirable.

Working linen into your wardrobe

Linen is among the most comfortable fabrics to wear in the spring and summer time. Be it in the form of jackets, trousers, shirts and even shoes, linen sends a clear message of casual cool.

I have reason to believe that among men who dress conservatively for work, there is a reluctance to embrace linen as part of their wardrobe. For some, linen's inherent property of wrinkling makes men less comfortable about wearing it in public than a non-iron cotton shirt.

Lighten up, fellas. The whole point of wearing linen is to get as far away from work attire as possible. Linen works best when worn outdoors, eating outside at cafes, strolling down boardwalks.

To test the look, I went out to my backyard wearing a linen suit and a cotton/linen blend sleeveless shirt. I live in the Houston area, where it's typically 75 degrees Fahrenheit during the spring.



The linen suit is a brown pinstripe from Polo; the shirt is from Nautica; and the leather-lined, linen shoes are vintage Cole-Haan. I especially like the generous leg room in the trousers, which gives me an "Oxford bag" look. To top it off, the straw hat is from Borsalino.



Finding linen shoes these days is a bit of a challenge; sandals work just as easily if you wish to maintain the leisurely look.

Bottom line: Don't be afraid to experiment with linen. It's meant not to be ironed. It is comfortable in warm climates.