
Back in the early ‘90s, GQ hired British writer Peter Mayle for a series of articles. Mayle had just become known for his NYT best seller, A Year in Provence, which was about his time in France. His new GQ series was to be about life’s more extravagant pleasures – the grandest hotels, freshest truffles, softest Mongolian cashmere, etc. The articles were later republished as a book, Acquired Taste. The book is more fluff than substance, but Mayle is such a great writer and so filled with gusto that it’s hard not to get swept away.
The first chapter of Acquired Taste is about bespoke shoes – specifically those made in the West End of London (you can listen to part of the chapter on YouTube). Mayle gets into the ridiculousness of it all in the second paragraph:
To some men – even those who revel in bespoke suits with cuff buttonholes that really undo, or made-to-measure shirts with single-needle stitching and the snug caress of a hand-turned collar – even to some of these sartorial gourmets, the thought of walking around on feet cocooned in money somehow smacks of excess, more shameful than a passion for cashmere socks, and something they wouldn’t care to admit to their accountants. Their misgivings are usually supported by the same argument: what could possibly justify the difference in price between shoes made by hand and shoes made by machine? Unlike the miracles of disguise that a tailor has perform in order to camouflage bodily imperfections, the shoemaker’s task is simple. Feet are feet.
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