Turn to the left
Turn to the right
~David Bowie, Fashion
The click clickety click sound heard when walking in a pair of well healed dress shoes as one tap dances through the day, each step another note in the song, is satisfying music. It’s a song unknown to those walking in the sneaky quiet of gym shoes slinking from place to place sidling up to others as a snake slithers along a tree branch when hunting a colorful songbird.
I have grown tired of the pervasive gym shoe, tennis shoe, sneaker….whatever moniker you choose to identify athletic shoes, foot coverings. Half or more of the people I see on the city streets don this footwear more appropriate to a gym than the bustling streets of a thriving city.
Shoes today, the ones I see in the city, rarely make a statement. Most seem to say, “don’t notice me.” They are chosen to fit in, to be anonymous. I see this phenomena on both men and women though less so on women. Though, women are much more likely to choose a popular style which gives them the belief they are cutting edge when in reality they are much more, me too, as they are wearing the same shoe as is worn by every fourth woman on the street.
I have come to appreciate a touch of style especially in the office, a colorful tie worn with a button shirt instead of a polo open at the neck, a sports coat in a day when the dress jacket is an afterthought, a pair of clickety dress shoes of a color other than black. There is a place for black but so is there a place for oxblood and cordovan and blue.
When choosing my clothing for the day, I start with shoes, the foundation, then build up. Trousers that go with the shoe then an accent sock to bridge the foot to leg gap. Every morning a new costume with which to dance through my day.