Sockless Footwear: A Menswear Blogger's History

In case you didn't know, I spend a lot of time reading your posts. Yes, you, the guy who takes pictures of your shoes, shirts, coats, (hopefully not) your penis, and your watches. I have been for some time. Anyway, like anyone who reads a lot, I begin to make connections. And from those connections I present you "Sockless Footwear: A Menswear Blogger's History". Don't worry, it's quite enlightening.



Boatshoes were the shit in '08-'09. Comfortable and slightly more classy than flip-flops, you wore them to hide the fungus that grows on your toes. You wore them sockless because, well, it's what you did. You got quite a bit of mileage into them before the streetwear kids found the boatshoes in all sorts of wacky colors and totally ruined your gig. Tough, now onto new uncharted territory (oh wait, JK, it's not new at all).



You found pennyloafers in photographs archived by the LIFE website, you x'ed out of the photos of dog afterbirth you were sending your girlfriend to explain why you shouldn't have a kid, and pulled up Zappos to order a pair of Bass plastic loafers. Well, that or you saved your dough and bought a pair with real leather. While boatshoes were cool, these shoes served you better '09-'10. Mainly because the hardbottoms do not melt like rubber when you stamp out flaming bags of shit on your front porch as the jocks from your old high school roar by in their '69 Mustang and one leans out the window, yelling, "QUIT WRITING ABOUT SOCKS, YOU FUCKIN' FAIRY!" While useful for this, pennyloafers also get quite a stank from this. '10-'11, time for something new.



In your new tassle loafers, you couldn't give a shit about the flaming bags of shit on your front porch. You mortgaged your house and bought a Porsche so when you drive by the old high school jocks you can flip them off and snort the mucus back into your nose disdainfully. The leather has achieved a rotten looking patina from all the alcohol you've spilt all over them. You and your new shoes don't give a dear a damn. You've dumped your girlfriend (what kind of person says that dog afterbirth is cute?), you blow your dough on tailoring your parkas and premium gas, and you sit at home and watch PBS murder mysteries. ADG knows whats up when it comes to MYSTERY! on PBS. Wait, hear that, it's the door bell. Time to snuggle up, the UPS man is dropping off the box set of Miss Marple Murder Mysteries. Wear your tassle loafers, they're what's up for '10-'11.

Photos robbed from:
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