I have a confession to make… I like shoes. I mean, I really like shoes. This is not unheard of among males, but to actually confess it is something different. It’s liberating to say the least.
Please don’t misunderstand. I don’t have hundreds of pairs. I just have a “few”. And, it’s not an addiction because I do control myself. I can go into a store and just browse the displays. After a few minutes, I walk out. The problem begins a couple of weeks later when I walk back in the same store and “browse” the same pairs. At this point, I am hooked and the only way I pull myself out of the store is to think about all the bills I have to pay for. This goes on for a number of times and after every “extraction”, I congratulate myself and give myself a pat on the back for having such discipline and self-control.
Then, one day, it just happens. I walk into the same store, ready to do the “browse” and step-out routine as always, but it just feels different. I can sense something is amiss. I quickly turn to step out of the store, but it is too late. The force exerted by the Salvatore Ferragamo boutique is too strong to resist. With my weakened resolve, I am pulled back in.
The salespeople, sensing a kill, er, a sale, put on their best smiles and begin plying me with the most beautiful pairs of shoes they have. Next thing I know, I am walking out of the store with 2 to 3 pairs of ridiculously expensive dress shoes that I will get to wear once or twice a year, thereby increasing my personal debt by several notches and helping Citibank hasten its way back to profitability.
One of those shoes is the pair in the photo. It is called the “Amedeo” and it is just superb. The design is clean and sleek. The leather used is soft enough to be comfortable. It also has a strap that adjusts to keep the fit snug and helps to maintain its slim profile. Two things, though, stand out when viewing this shoe. First is the hand-stitching, which must have been done by santa’s elves. Second, and for me, the more important thing, is the absolutely marvelous smell of the calf-skin leather.
Recommended for male shoe addicts.
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