I have a late update to the black plain-toe lace-up shoe choices. Red Wing has added this black "Postman oxford" to their heritage line (I thought it included only boots). These shoes are made in USA and are available for $220 from Nordstrom.
But there's one thing about them that would be a definite deal-breaker for me: the wedge-style sole. I didn't notice it at first, and there's a good chance it would go unnoticed by others, but I just have an extreme dislike for how this type of sole looks in profile, regardless of the color of the sole or what type of shoe it's attached to. If that sort of thing doesn't bother you, these look like they would be pretty comfortable.
Showing posts with label Footing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Footing. Show all posts
08 April 2011
07 April 2011
The Alden Aura
For some time, I've been looking for a pair of black plain-toe shoes something like these. I was after a slightly clunky look with nice rounded toes for plenty of room up front, which I think looks pretty cool when paired with darker jeans (and can of course be worn with many other types of outfits).
Seems simple enough, right? But most of what I came across was either cheaply made, or didn't offer wide widths, or was too tapered at the front of the shoe. I could have just bought the Brooks Brothers shoes, but I was also trying to avoid spending $400 (and the BB shoes don't come in wide anyway).
Other options include the Allen-Edmonds Leeds, which runs $550 in shell cordovan but $325 in regular leather, still a bit more than I was hoping to spend. I wanted the shoes to be USA-made if possible, so that excluded the Florsheim Kenmoor, which at $225 seems a decent value(the wingtip version has been quite popular with budget-minded trad bloggers) but is made in India.*
I decided to broaden my search to consider vintage and more recent, gently-used shoes. This would give me a better chance of finding American-made shoes, but meant I would have to more wary and vigilant to avoid buying something that was the wrong size, or simply buying someone else's junk.
I'd been half-seriously looking for a pair of Aldens on eBay and Style Forum for a couple of months, but not really expecting to find any, as the Aldens that come up for sale in my size tend to be styles I'm not interested in. But a couple of weeks ago I spotted an eBay auction for black plain-toe Aldens, and they were the shell cordovan version in my size, wide width. I love Aldens, but they're pricey, and I hadn't even bothered to consider shell, as it's much more expensive than calfskin.
They were a variant of the style, with rubber soles instead of the more common double-layer leather soles, which may have made them of less interest to other potential bidders with whom I share a shoe size. I ended up winning the auction, and even with the shipping, the shoes cost me less than half of what a new pair would cost. They arrived on Saturday, and I took a quick spin around the house in them. They were the right size and fit well. The leather has a natural luster, making the shoes look like they have been highly polished.
Yesterday I wore them to work for the first time. I had a slight problem with the back of the left shoe biting into my ankle (I may be able to fix this with some moleskin), and I'm considering trying a pair of insoles for some extra cushioning, but otherwise they felt good. I'm hoping these can become long-term shoes for me as I try to transition to buying better-quality shoes.
*Re: the wingtip comment—I got that wrong. There is a wingtip version of the Kenmoor, but the shoe I meant to reference is the Veblen, which at $160 is even lower-priced than the Kenmoor, and can be purchased for around $135 with the use of a coupon code. A Goodyear welt on a shoe at this price is unusual, plus it comes in six colors. Too bad I have no interest in wingtips...
Seems simple enough, right? But most of what I came across was either cheaply made, or didn't offer wide widths, or was too tapered at the front of the shoe. I could have just bought the Brooks Brothers shoes, but I was also trying to avoid spending $400 (and the BB shoes don't come in wide anyway).
Other options include the Allen-Edmonds Leeds, which runs $550 in shell cordovan but $325 in regular leather, still a bit more than I was hoping to spend. I wanted the shoes to be USA-made if possible, so that excluded the Florsheim Kenmoor, which at $225 seems a decent value
I decided to broaden my search to consider vintage and more recent, gently-used shoes. This would give me a better chance of finding American-made shoes, but meant I would have to more wary and vigilant to avoid buying something that was the wrong size, or simply buying someone else's junk.
I'd been half-seriously looking for a pair of Aldens on eBay and Style Forum for a couple of months, but not really expecting to find any, as the Aldens that come up for sale in my size tend to be styles I'm not interested in. But a couple of weeks ago I spotted an eBay auction for black plain-toe Aldens, and they were the shell cordovan version in my size, wide width. I love Aldens, but they're pricey, and I hadn't even bothered to consider shell, as it's much more expensive than calfskin.
They were a variant of the style, with rubber soles instead of the more common double-layer leather soles, which may have made them of less interest to other potential bidders with whom I share a shoe size. I ended up winning the auction, and even with the shipping, the shoes cost me less than half of what a new pair would cost. They arrived on Saturday, and I took a quick spin around the house in them. They were the right size and fit well. The leather has a natural luster, making the shoes look like they have been highly polished.
Yesterday I wore them to work for the first time. I had a slight problem with the back of the left shoe biting into my ankle (I may be able to fix this with some moleskin), and I'm considering trying a pair of insoles for some extra cushioning, but otherwise they felt good. I'm hoping these can become long-term shoes for me as I try to transition to buying better-quality shoes.
*Re: the wingtip comment—I got that wrong. There is a wingtip version of the Kenmoor, but the shoe I meant to reference is the Veblen, which at $160 is even lower-priced than the Kenmoor, and can be purchased for around $135 with the use of a coupon code. A Goodyear welt on a shoe at this price is unusual, plus it comes in six colors. Too bad I have no interest in wingtips...
10 March 2011
English Boots (Almost)
Last week I saw this post on Put This On, about these English-made Chelsea boots that were on sale at Brooks Brothers for half off the original price, with a code for another 15% off because they were in the clearance section. The final price was $224, around 60% off the original price.
The idea of a pair of made-in-England shoes at such an appealing price was very tempting. I added a pair to the shopping cart, pondered it for 30 minutes or so, then bought them, knowing that I could return them to the Brooks Brothers store if they didn't fit.
During the pondering period, I thought about the fact that they were only available in standard (medium) width, which, depending on the shoe, frequently doesn't work for me. I decided to compensate by going up a half-size, which sometimes works.
The shoes arrived on Tuesday, and they were quite beautiful. The leather was soft and lustrous; the heels had a couple dozen small copper nails in neat rows. English shoes tend to have tapered, somewhat pointy toes, and these did, which worried me. But I put them on and found that they felt roomier than they looked like they were going to be. The half-size up seemed to give me enough room up front, but I was concerned about their appearance.
They seemed too dressy to be casual, yet too casual to be dressy. I thought about the situations when I would be most likely to wear them, and the clothes I would be likely to wear in those situations. I wondered how much wear I would really get out of them. I looked down at my feet and thought that the boots looked bad with the dark jeans I was wearing that day.
Ultimately I decided that there was no need for me to spend $225 on shoes of questionable usefulness. If I could buy a pair of Alden plain-toe bluchers for that price, I'd have no hesitation about keeping them because I know I'd wear them all the time, and aesthetically I think I prefer the rounded, slightly blunt shape of that sort of American shoe anyway. The boots were returned to the store.
(By the way, if you're interested in this style of boot, I did find an American-made Chelsea boot for around the same price; the brand is Neil M and the style name is Portland. But I'm not going to buy them either.)
The idea of a pair of made-in-England shoes at such an appealing price was very tempting. I added a pair to the shopping cart, pondered it for 30 minutes or so, then bought them, knowing that I could return them to the Brooks Brothers store if they didn't fit.
During the pondering period, I thought about the fact that they were only available in standard (medium) width, which, depending on the shoe, frequently doesn't work for me. I decided to compensate by going up a half-size, which sometimes works.
The shoes arrived on Tuesday, and they were quite beautiful. The leather was soft and lustrous; the heels had a couple dozen small copper nails in neat rows. English shoes tend to have tapered, somewhat pointy toes, and these did, which worried me. But I put them on and found that they felt roomier than they looked like they were going to be. The half-size up seemed to give me enough room up front, but I was concerned about their appearance.
They seemed too dressy to be casual, yet too casual to be dressy. I thought about the situations when I would be most likely to wear them, and the clothes I would be likely to wear in those situations. I wondered how much wear I would really get out of them. I looked down at my feet and thought that the boots looked bad with the dark jeans I was wearing that day.
Ultimately I decided that there was no need for me to spend $225 on shoes of questionable usefulness. If I could buy a pair of Alden plain-toe bluchers for that price, I'd have no hesitation about keeping them because I know I'd wear them all the time, and aesthetically I think I prefer the rounded, slightly blunt shape of that sort of American shoe anyway. The boots were returned to the store.
(By the way, if you're interested in this style of boot, I did find an American-made Chelsea boot for around the same price; the brand is Neil M and the style name is Portland. But I'm not going to buy them either.)
30 April 2010
Style File: Spring Shoes
Along with the sweaters and heavy coats, most of the boots have now been stored in the basement as well. Spring has arrived in full force, which means it's also time for lighter-weight, lighter-colored pants, and seasonal shoes to go with them.
The first shoes I bought this season were these tan bucks from Lands' End. I'd been thinking about getting a pair of bucks since last summer, which is interesting, because a few years back I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with them, so it goes to show that our tastes do change over time.
I still wouldn't want a white pair; that's a little too To Kill A Mockingbird for me. There are those who advocate getting a pair of white bucks and wearing them to death so that they don't remain white for long, and there's definitely a certain carefree panache to that, but I feel they wouldn't be appropriate to wear to work, even in my casual office environment.
No, I knew that a pair in light tan would work much better for me. I started with eBay, hoping I could score a vintage pair from Brooks Brothers or maybe even Alden, but I never found what I wanted in my size at a reasonable price. I did run across a very cool pair of vintage light gray bucks from L.L. Bean (old enough so they probably would have been manufactured by Bean themselves, or at one of their Maine neighbors), but they were a size too small.
But this spring, shoes like this are available almost everywhere, in many different shades of tan, taupe, and even darker brown. The first ones I saw this year were from Bean. The price was right ($79) and I was leaning toward getting them, but I was worried that the color was a little too light, and more importantly, I've had problems with the last few pairs of shoes I've bought from Bean, and had to return them because wearing them was causing pain in my ankles and calves. I think their shoes have suffered an unfortunate decline in quality, so for now I'm staying away.
Bass always has this style of shoe, but let's face it, their quality isn't so great anymore either, and they also didn't have the shade of tan I was after. Still, if you just want something to bang around in, they're probably okay. J. Crew has had buck oxfords for at least a couple of seasons, but theirs are more expensive ($140), and the sole isn't the right shade of red. When you look at the images online it looks right, but when you see the shoe in person, it's too dark. (Yes, this matters to me.)
I was in Nordstrom a couple of months back, and got excited when I saw some light gray bucks that reminded me of the vintage Bean ones I'd seen on eBay, until I saw that they had an off-white sole instead of the traditional red one. Too bad. Even more amusing, this shoe also comes in light blue and red, both rather clowny colors for men's shoes. It's difficult for me to imagine who might like these. (Weirdly, if you follow that Bass link above, you'll find very similar-looking shoes in those same colors, so there's probably a common manufacturer there.) This shoe also comes in a very pale beige (which, interestingly, they call white) on a red sole, and it's available in wide widths. I didn't try them on, but maybe I should have.
Then I saw the Lands' End shoes, at the same price as Bean's. At first I wasn't sure I liked the little piping detail you can see in the picture, but it grew on me. The shoes of theirs that I've had in the past have been decent, and while I wish they offered them in wide widths, that shortcoming was offset by Lands' End's prolific discounting. For the past couple of years, LE has made it very easy to avoid paying full price or shipping for their merchandise. I get emails from them literally every day with one discount or another. So I took advantage of a 30%-off-shoes discount and got these for $56, plus free shipping.
(If you live near a Sears that has a Lands' End Shop in it, you can get the discounts there too, and sometimes you find stuff that's already marked down. Recently the Mrs. got a pair of LE shoes on clearance for $6, and a pair of jeans for the same price.)
I think I'll probably even continue to wear these in the summer, with shorts. Until last year, I wore nothing but sneakers with shorts, until I realized that I needed to branch out and have some variety. I looked around for some boat shoes, but I didn't want ones with white soles. I found this pair from Clarks that are among the most comfortable shoes I have, and are water-resistant too.
When I placed my recent Gap order, I needed to get to $100 to get free shipping, so I added a couple of things I wasn't certain I would keep. (This is the oldest trick in the free-shipping book, as long as you can return items to a B&M location and there's one convenient to you.) One was these classic canvas CVO (that stands for "circular vamp oxford," which I didn't know) sneaks. With the discount I was getting on my entire order, they ended up being $24. They're pretty comfortable and lightweight, so these will also be useful this summer.
Still on the wish list: these adidas Rod Laver Vintage sneakers (specifically, the white and red ones). This shoe is a variant of the classic Rod Laver design that adidas has been selling for 40-some years. It's slimmed-down and refined, a bit more grown-up looking, and thus avoids the stoner/Dave Matthews Band/hacky-sack connotations the Laver has acquired.
The red-trim version has not yet gone on sale, but I keep checking the adidas web site a couple of times a week. The other two colorways have already hit their site and sold out, so I was going to try to reserve a pair at the adidas Originals store in Harvard Square, but it has closed. I'm not sure what other options I might have, but I'm thinking of contacting one of the other Originals stores, like maybe the one in Manhattan (where there's a DJ and the music was insanely loud, louder than any other store I've ever been in).
The first shoes I bought this season were these tan bucks from Lands' End. I'd been thinking about getting a pair of bucks since last summer, which is interesting, because a few years back I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with them, so it goes to show that our tastes do change over time.
No, I knew that a pair in light tan would work much better for me. I started with eBay, hoping I could score a vintage pair from Brooks Brothers or maybe even Alden, but I never found what I wanted in my size at a reasonable price. I did run across a very cool pair of vintage light gray bucks from L.L. Bean (old enough so they probably would have been manufactured by Bean themselves, or at one of their Maine neighbors), but they were a size too small.
But this spring, shoes like this are available almost everywhere, in many different shades of tan, taupe, and even darker brown. The first ones I saw this year were from Bean. The price was right ($79) and I was leaning toward getting them, but I was worried that the color was a little too light, and more importantly, I've had problems with the last few pairs of shoes I've bought from Bean, and had to return them because wearing them was causing pain in my ankles and calves. I think their shoes have suffered an unfortunate decline in quality, so for now I'm staying away.
Bass always has this style of shoe, but let's face it, their quality isn't so great anymore either, and they also didn't have the shade of tan I was after. Still, if you just want something to bang around in, they're probably okay. J. Crew has had buck oxfords for at least a couple of seasons, but theirs are more expensive ($140), and the sole isn't the right shade of red. When you look at the images online it looks right, but when you see the shoe in person, it's too dark. (Yes, this matters to me.)
I was in Nordstrom a couple of months back, and got excited when I saw some light gray bucks that reminded me of the vintage Bean ones I'd seen on eBay, until I saw that they had an off-white sole instead of the traditional red one. Too bad. Even more amusing, this shoe also comes in light blue and red, both rather clowny colors for men's shoes. It's difficult for me to imagine who might like these. (Weirdly, if you follow that Bass link above, you'll find very similar-looking shoes in those same colors, so there's probably a common manufacturer there.) This shoe also comes in a very pale beige (which, interestingly, they call white) on a red sole, and it's available in wide widths. I didn't try them on, but maybe I should have.
Then I saw the Lands' End shoes, at the same price as Bean's. At first I wasn't sure I liked the little piping detail you can see in the picture, but it grew on me. The shoes of theirs that I've had in the past have been decent, and while I wish they offered them in wide widths, that shortcoming was offset by Lands' End's prolific discounting. For the past couple of years, LE has made it very easy to avoid paying full price or shipping for their merchandise. I get emails from them literally every day with one discount or another. So I took advantage of a 30%-off-shoes discount and got these for $56, plus free shipping.
(If you live near a Sears that has a Lands' End Shop in it, you can get the discounts there too, and sometimes you find stuff that's already marked down. Recently the Mrs. got a pair of LE shoes on clearance for $6, and a pair of jeans for the same price.)
I think I'll probably even continue to wear these in the summer, with shorts. Until last year, I wore nothing but sneakers with shorts, until I realized that I needed to branch out and have some variety. I looked around for some boat shoes, but I didn't want ones with white soles. I found this pair from Clarks that are among the most comfortable shoes I have, and are water-resistant too.
20 April 2009
The Endorsement: Merrell
For a long time I've had problems with my feet. I've had to put some sort of cushioning insole in several pairs of my shoes (even ones that are supposed to be extra-comfortable), and sometimes I get a very painful cramp in my right foot, depending on how much standing or walking I'm doing. If I take off the shoe and stretch out my foot, the cramp tends to go away, but it isn't always convenient or dignified to do that. The problem is not confined to one particular type or brand of shoe, so I know that my foot is the problem, not the shoes. I know that I should see a podiatrist about it, but I feel like I can barely manage my time as it is.
One problem is that shoes frequently don't start to cause me trouble until I've had them for a while, at which point they can't be returned. A notable exception to this is L.L. Bean. For generations outdoorsmen, thrifty Yankees, and countless others made mail-order purchases from Bean with confidence because of the security of the company's guarantee that if a customer was unhappy with any product, for any reason, at any time, they could return it.
I have been a Bean customer for nearly 30 years. I've bought just about every article of clothing they offer, and I never had a problem with anything I purchased, until a couple of years ago. I bought a pair of casual shoes to wear to work, and I found that after a few hours, the shoes were causing sharp pains in my legs. This was different from the foot cramp, and worse. The shoes had to go back. The clerk at the store was extremely apologetic. I thought it was a fluke occurrence, and didn't give it much more thought after that.
Each year after Christmas, Bean has a big clearance sale to get ready for spring. I was in need of a pair of outdoorish shoes, what most people would call a trail shoe. This is a type of shoe I like to wear on weekends in spring and fall, something a bit more rugged than a typical sneaker, maybe something with waterproofing or at least water resistance. I'd looked at Bean's trail shoes a couple of times, and when I saw that they were 30% off their regular price in the post-holiday sale, I ordered a pair.
The first few times I wore them they were fine, but then I started to have pain similar to what happened with the other shoes. Not quite as severe, and more in the ankles than the legs, but significant enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to keep wearing them. I fear that Bean is making products to hit a target price point, and that quality is suffering as a result. It doesn't mean that I'm giving up on them completely, but I don't think I can keep buying shoes from them, which is unfortunate.
That still left me in need of a trail shoe. One reason I'd liked the Bean shoes was that they were fairly low-key in appearance; a lot of the other shoes I looked at resembled lumpy spaceships. So-called trail running sneakers were even worse. Somehow I stumbled onto some Merrell shoes on the web. I always thought that Merrell made shoes for serious outdoor types like rock climbers, or those slip-ons for older folks who can no longer bend down to tie their shoes, so I just never paid much attention. I was even more interested when I learned that certain styles were available in wide widths.
Eventually I decided on the Moab, which is available in two versions. One is ventilated and I guess is meant to be worn in warmer weather; the other is waterproof, making it much more practical for year-round wear. I went to several shoe sites and read customers' reviews, and found that this shoe was generally very favorably reviewed, a good sign. It's very light compared to other shoes I've seen in this style, and the interior cushioning is made of a very dense foam; I have some other shoes with this type of insole (Rockport's XCS line has it), and they have been among my more comfortable and less troublesome shoes. It's also available in four colors, which made it easier to find one I liked (I chose the gray/black combo that Merrell calls "beluga").
I wore the shoes all day Saturday and all day Sunday: no cramping, my feet did not hurt at all, and neither did my ankles or legs. This is a big relief, and gives me confidence that there will be other pain-free shoes in my future.
One problem is that shoes frequently don't start to cause me trouble until I've had them for a while, at which point they can't be returned. A notable exception to this is L.L. Bean. For generations outdoorsmen, thrifty Yankees, and countless others made mail-order purchases from Bean with confidence because of the security of the company's guarantee that if a customer was unhappy with any product, for any reason, at any time, they could return it.
I have been a Bean customer for nearly 30 years. I've bought just about every article of clothing they offer, and I never had a problem with anything I purchased, until a couple of years ago. I bought a pair of casual shoes to wear to work, and I found that after a few hours, the shoes were causing sharp pains in my legs. This was different from the foot cramp, and worse. The shoes had to go back. The clerk at the store was extremely apologetic. I thought it was a fluke occurrence, and didn't give it much more thought after that.
Each year after Christmas, Bean has a big clearance sale to get ready for spring. I was in need of a pair of outdoorish shoes, what most people would call a trail shoe. This is a type of shoe I like to wear on weekends in spring and fall, something a bit more rugged than a typical sneaker, maybe something with waterproofing or at least water resistance. I'd looked at Bean's trail shoes a couple of times, and when I saw that they were 30% off their regular price in the post-holiday sale, I ordered a pair.
The first few times I wore them they were fine, but then I started to have pain similar to what happened with the other shoes. Not quite as severe, and more in the ankles than the legs, but significant enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to keep wearing them. I fear that Bean is making products to hit a target price point, and that quality is suffering as a result. It doesn't mean that I'm giving up on them completely, but I don't think I can keep buying shoes from them, which is unfortunate.
That still left me in need of a trail shoe. One reason I'd liked the Bean shoes was that they were fairly low-key in appearance; a lot of the other shoes I looked at resembled lumpy spaceships. So-called trail running sneakers were even worse. Somehow I stumbled onto some Merrell shoes on the web. I always thought that Merrell made shoes for serious outdoor types like rock climbers, or those slip-ons for older folks who can no longer bend down to tie their shoes, so I just never paid much attention. I was even more interested when I learned that certain styles were available in wide widths.
Eventually I decided on the Moab, which is available in two versions. One is ventilated and I guess is meant to be worn in warmer weather; the other is waterproof, making it much more practical for year-round wear. I went to several shoe sites and read customers' reviews, and found that this shoe was generally very favorably reviewed, a good sign. It's very light compared to other shoes I've seen in this style, and the interior cushioning is made of a very dense foam; I have some other shoes with this type of insole (Rockport's XCS line has it), and they have been among my more comfortable and less troublesome shoes. It's also available in four colors, which made it easier to find one I liked (I chose the gray/black combo that Merrell calls "beluga").
I wore the shoes all day Saturday and all day Sunday: no cramping, my feet did not hurt at all, and neither did my ankles or legs. This is a big relief, and gives me confidence that there will be other pain-free shoes in my future.
27 March 2008
A Plague of White Shoes
I'm worried. I've spotted a men's fashion trend for the coming spring-summer season that is very disturbing. I'm talking about white shoes.
Last week I happened to be in one of those self-serve shoe-store chains that have become popular. They offer a large selection and the pretense of a good deal, but if you pay attention to prices or do a little online comparison shopping, you'll find that these stores charge pretty much the same as what you'd pay for the shoes anywhere else.
Anyway, there are two of these stores within about a mile of our house, different, competing chains. The names of the stores don't matter, because they sell the same shoes. There's also that big one downtown, but does anyone bother to shop downtown anymore? Last time I was down there, on a weekday after work, it was like a ghost town.
So I was wandering around the shoe store, mostly just killing time, and I started to notice all kinds of white shoes in the men's section. Some were leather, which is bad enough, but some of them appeared to be fabric, which is I don't know how many kinds of horrifying. Most of them were in the form of loafers or what are sometimes called "driving shoes."
I'm starting to think that fashion designers sit around going, "Let's see, what can we come up with that's completely hideous, but if we package and present and market it the right way, people will think they have to have it?" "Hey, I know--how about we do the white shoes again?" "Perfect! Ha ha, those suckers. Pass the espresso, will ya?"
I lived through this fashion scourge the first time around; it was called the Seventies, and it wasn't any more pleasant back then. When you wear white shoes, you abandon any element of dignity you might have had. There is one exception to this: white bucks, those suede shoes with red rubber soles that are favored by wealthy WASP types in the summer months, most likely with no socks. It's pretty much impossible to be anything but dignified in those.
If you feel like you want to try to rock the white bucks this summer, be my guest. But any other white shoes that are not sneakers or golf shoes are just wrong. Proceed at your own risk.
Last week I happened to be in one of those self-serve shoe-store chains that have become popular. They offer a large selection and the pretense of a good deal, but if you pay attention to prices or do a little online comparison shopping, you'll find that these stores charge pretty much the same as what you'd pay for the shoes anywhere else.
Anyway, there are two of these stores within about a mile of our house, different, competing chains. The names of the stores don't matter, because they sell the same shoes. There's also that big one downtown, but does anyone bother to shop downtown anymore? Last time I was down there, on a weekday after work, it was like a ghost town.
So I was wandering around the shoe store, mostly just killing time, and I started to notice all kinds of white shoes in the men's section. Some were leather, which is bad enough, but some of them appeared to be fabric, which is I don't know how many kinds of horrifying. Most of them were in the form of loafers or what are sometimes called "driving shoes."
I'm starting to think that fashion designers sit around going, "Let's see, what can we come up with that's completely hideous, but if we package and present and market it the right way, people will think they have to have it?" "Hey, I know--how about we do the white shoes again?" "Perfect! Ha ha, those suckers. Pass the espresso, will ya?"
I lived through this fashion scourge the first time around; it was called the Seventies, and it wasn't any more pleasant back then. When you wear white shoes, you abandon any element of dignity you might have had. There is one exception to this: white bucks, those suede shoes with red rubber soles that are favored by wealthy WASP types in the summer months, most likely with no socks. It's pretty much impossible to be anything but dignified in those.
If you feel like you want to try to rock the white bucks this summer, be my guest. But any other white shoes that are not sneakers or golf shoes are just wrong. Proceed at your own risk.
09 January 2007
How It's Done (Customer Service)
Back in October I bought a new pair of slippers. Normally this would not be cause for a blog entry, even in my warped world. I just needed slippers. My old ones were ratty, so I'd thrown them away when we moved, and since we'd gotten the dog, I needed ones with rubber soles to wear when I took her outside first thing in the morning.
I ordered a pair from Lands' End with the requisite rubber soles and fleece uppers, which seemed like a good idea for the colder months, even if our winter hasn't been very wintry this year. When they arrived, I immediately noticed a strong, unpleasant chemical odor, like you get sometimes with certain plastic or rubber products. I put them outside, figuring the smell would dissipate in a few hours. It didn't. I wore the slippers anyway, because it was chilly in the house.
A couple of months went by, and one night while we were watching TV, the Mrs. said, "What's that smell?" I said, "Oh, it's my slippers." (I was amazed it had taken her that long to notice, because she is extremely sensitive to smells.) I had sort of stopped noticing it, as tends to happen over time, but since she had drawn my attention to it, I noticed it again. If anything, the smell seemed stronger than when I first got the slippers, and it really was noxious, so I decided they needed to go back.
I called Lands' End customer service. One thing I wanted to know was if other people had noticed the smell, but the person I talked to said it was the first time she'd heard of it. "Still," she said, "it's obvious you're not satisfied with the purchase, and you shouldn't be. If you live near a Sears store, you can just take them back there, and save the time and cost of shipping them back to us." I appreciated the acknowledgement that something had gone wrong with my Lands' End shopping experience, and they wanted to make it right as quickly and easily as possible. She told me I would need my order number, which she provided.
When Sears had bought Lands' End a few years back. It seemed like an odd match, and it wasn't the smoothest integration. When the LE merchandise started showing up in (some, but not all of) the stores, it was scattered among the other junk Sears sells, and it just kind of got lost. I try not to spend much time in Sears anyway, becuase honestly, it's just way too depressing to be in the vicinity of that much polyester. But I was on a mission, so off I went.
Apparently someone got the message about the product presentation in the stores, because they now have a dedicated Lands' End section, much like how you'll find Polo or DKNY in a more upscale department store. Definitely the right idea. There's even a sitting area with a sofa and chairs, for your significant other's marathon try-on sessions. The smart part is, the clerks use that order number to access your order history and personal information stored with Lands' End, so they don't even need to swipe your credit card to process the refund. Seamless, painless, and it took only about 30 seconds. And I found some suitable, non-smelling slippers on clearance at Macy's, for less than half of what I'd paid for the Lands' End ones.
I ordered a pair from Lands' End with the requisite rubber soles and fleece uppers, which seemed like a good idea for the colder months, even if our winter hasn't been very wintry this year. When they arrived, I immediately noticed a strong, unpleasant chemical odor, like you get sometimes with certain plastic or rubber products. I put them outside, figuring the smell would dissipate in a few hours. It didn't. I wore the slippers anyway, because it was chilly in the house.
A couple of months went by, and one night while we were watching TV, the Mrs. said, "What's that smell?" I said, "Oh, it's my slippers." (I was amazed it had taken her that long to notice, because she is extremely sensitive to smells.) I had sort of stopped noticing it, as tends to happen over time, but since she had drawn my attention to it, I noticed it again. If anything, the smell seemed stronger than when I first got the slippers, and it really was noxious, so I decided they needed to go back.
I called Lands' End customer service. One thing I wanted to know was if other people had noticed the smell, but the person I talked to said it was the first time she'd heard of it. "Still," she said, "it's obvious you're not satisfied with the purchase, and you shouldn't be. If you live near a Sears store, you can just take them back there, and save the time and cost of shipping them back to us." I appreciated the acknowledgement that something had gone wrong with my Lands' End shopping experience, and they wanted to make it right as quickly and easily as possible. She told me I would need my order number, which she provided.
When Sears had bought Lands' End a few years back. It seemed like an odd match, and it wasn't the smoothest integration. When the LE merchandise started showing up in (some, but not all of) the stores, it was scattered among the other junk Sears sells, and it just kind of got lost. I try not to spend much time in Sears anyway, becuase honestly, it's just way too depressing to be in the vicinity of that much polyester. But I was on a mission, so off I went.
Apparently someone got the message about the product presentation in the stores, because they now have a dedicated Lands' End section, much like how you'll find Polo or DKNY in a more upscale department store. Definitely the right idea. There's even a sitting area with a sofa and chairs, for your significant other's marathon try-on sessions. The smart part is, the clerks use that order number to access your order history and personal information stored with Lands' End, so they don't even need to swipe your credit card to process the refund. Seamless, painless, and it took only about 30 seconds. And I found some suitable, non-smelling slippers on clearance at Macy's, for less than half of what I'd paid for the Lands' End ones.
13 December 2006
Sneaker Flashback
Remember the 80's? Sure, who could forget? All those crazy fashions that (of course) are coming back. One thing that never really went away, but dropped below the fashion radar, was black sneakers in general and black Reeboks in particular.
The Ex-O-Fit (available in both low and high versions) was marketed to men as a general fitness shoe (years before "cross-trainers"). Not a running shoe, not a tennis shoe, not a basketball shoe. Just a general casual athletic shoe. Pure marketing genius. They were/are also made in white, but the black ones were much cooler. Just about everybody wore them; the women's version (which had come out first), called Freestyle, was marketed as an aerobics shoe.
I recently stumbled across the Ex-O-Fit at the web site Shoes.com. I don't think I had ever looked at the site before. It's a lot like Zappos and ShoeBuy: lots of brands, everything at pretty much list price, free shipping both ways in case you need to exchange for a different size.
But I didn't end up buying the Ex-O-Fits. Even though I like the overall design, I was on the fence about them because of a couple of small style details (typical). Then I found another classic, though less popular, Reebok style on the same site that had also been around since the 80's and was also available in black: the NPC tennis shoe. I had owned a pair of white NPC's and had really liked them, not least because they're almost entirely devoid of unnecessary detail. Some people would say that makes them boring; I say that makes them subtle. I've never liked the busy, overdone look of modern sneakers anyway.
I didn't know they were still available in any color, so I was pleased to see them and decided I needed a pair in black. But I have to be honest: I'm having a little buyer's remorse. I kind of wish I'd gotten the Ex-O-Fits after all. Maybe it's just nostalgia. Maybe I'll buy them anyway.
The Ex-O-Fit (available in both low and high versions) was marketed to men as a general fitness shoe (years before "cross-trainers"). Not a running shoe, not a tennis shoe, not a basketball shoe. Just a general casual athletic shoe. Pure marketing genius. They were/are also made in white, but the black ones were much cooler. Just about everybody wore them; the women's version (which had come out first), called Freestyle, was marketed as an aerobics shoe.
I recently stumbled across the Ex-O-Fit at the web site Shoes.com. I don't think I had ever looked at the site before. It's a lot like Zappos and ShoeBuy: lots of brands, everything at pretty much list price, free shipping both ways in case you need to exchange for a different size.
But I didn't end up buying the Ex-O-Fits. Even though I like the overall design, I was on the fence about them because of a couple of small style details (typical). Then I found another classic, though less popular, Reebok style on the same site that had also been around since the 80's and was also available in black: the NPC tennis shoe. I had owned a pair of white NPC's and had really liked them, not least because they're almost entirely devoid of unnecessary detail. Some people would say that makes them boring; I say that makes them subtle. I've never liked the busy, overdone look of modern sneakers anyway.
I didn't know they were still available in any color, so I was pleased to see them and decided I needed a pair in black. But I have to be honest: I'm having a little buyer's remorse. I kind of wish I'd gotten the Ex-O-Fits after all. Maybe it's just nostalgia. Maybe I'll buy them anyway.
02 October 2006
Cruel Shoes
I decided to begin by talking about shoes, because it's a universal topic; everyone needs shoes, everyone has to deal with finding shoes they like and that fit properly. I have a hard time finding shoes. I don't just mean styles I like, though that is true. I also mean the right size. It's not that I have freakishly tiny or clownishly large feet; on average these days I wear an 11. But the key words in that sentence are "on average." At the moment I own shoes ranging from size 10 to 11.5. It wasn't always this way; at one time I always wore a 10.5, except for sneakers, which generally run a bit smaller than non-sneakers; those were always an 11. Somewhere about a decade ago I found (by accident, if I remember correctly) that wider shoes were more comfortable, so when possible I would buy a 10.5 E or EE. Of course not all styles are made in wide widths, so I learned that if I went up a half-size I could get some of the extra space of a wider shoe.
Then things started getting a little weird. I was thinking about getting some Pumas, so I went to a store to try them on. Turned out I needed an 11.5. I learned later that Pumas traditionally run even smaller than most other sneaker brands. About six months ago I purchased a pair of Double H harness boots from a web site. In my experience boots tend to run a little truer to size, so I ordered a 10.5 wide. Turned out they were too big; not the width, but the length. I exchanged them for a 10 wide and was happy. I decided it must have been because they're made in the US, where we like everything big.
(As an aside, this sort of problem is a very good reason to buy shoes from a site like Shoebuy. They pay shipping both ways, so that if something is too big, or too small, you don't have to go out of pocket to exchange it. That's called customer service, and Shoebuy gets it.)
But then about a month ago I bought a pair of loafers from L. L. Bean. I was excited because Bean opened a store in Burlington, MA, not far from where I live, which meant I could try on the shoes (without having to go all the way to Maine), rather than take a guess and risk having to exchange them. Of course, because the store had just opened, they did not yet have the specific style I wanted in stock. I was told if I ordered them through an operator from the store phone, I would get free shipping, so I did. Since they were available in wide, I decided to go with the 10.5 EE. And once again they were too big.
When we shop for shoes, I think we've come to expect them to run smaller than their designated numerical size, so it's still something of a surprise when they are in fact too large. But is it a good thing or not? Any online or mail order shoe purchase involves some risk, unless you're replacing shoes you already have with the exact same style, or are buying a brand whose sizing is always consistent, which is rare. It makes me wonder if there is any sort of standard for how shoes sizes are assigned. It seems like there should be, but the evidence in my closet says otherwise.
Then things started getting a little weird. I was thinking about getting some Pumas, so I went to a store to try them on. Turned out I needed an 11.5. I learned later that Pumas traditionally run even smaller than most other sneaker brands. About six months ago I purchased a pair of Double H harness boots from a web site. In my experience boots tend to run a little truer to size, so I ordered a 10.5 wide. Turned out they were too big; not the width, but the length. I exchanged them for a 10 wide and was happy. I decided it must have been because they're made in the US, where we like everything big.
(As an aside, this sort of problem is a very good reason to buy shoes from a site like Shoebuy. They pay shipping both ways, so that if something is too big, or too small, you don't have to go out of pocket to exchange it. That's called customer service, and Shoebuy gets it.)
But then about a month ago I bought a pair of loafers from L. L. Bean. I was excited because Bean opened a store in Burlington, MA, not far from where I live, which meant I could try on the shoes (without having to go all the way to Maine), rather than take a guess and risk having to exchange them. Of course, because the store had just opened, they did not yet have the specific style I wanted in stock. I was told if I ordered them through an operator from the store phone, I would get free shipping, so I did. Since they were available in wide, I decided to go with the 10.5 EE. And once again they were too big.
When we shop for shoes, I think we've come to expect them to run smaller than their designated numerical size, so it's still something of a surprise when they are in fact too large. But is it a good thing or not? Any online or mail order shoe purchase involves some risk, unless you're replacing shoes you already have with the exact same style, or are buying a brand whose sizing is always consistent, which is rare. It makes me wonder if there is any sort of standard for how shoes sizes are assigned. It seems like there should be, but the evidence in my closet says otherwise.
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