BIG-BOY SHOES
When I was growing up, my main objective was to expedite youth as quickly as possible. If I had gotten an electric shock every time I engaged in under-age drinking, smoking, and driving, I could have fit into an ashtray. The desire to dress like an adult was part of it, and I couldn’t wait to ditch my Keds for my dad’s handsome Florsheim wing tips.
As middle age sets in, I’ve avoided the desperate impulse to recapture lost youth or get jiggy with the kids by adopting their generation’s footwear. Sneaker culture never grabbed me, though I bow to Run-DMC and what they ignited with “My Adidas.” Other trends, such as Allbirds sweater shoes, On running shoes, or any “performance” footwear—which people seem to wear mostly when not performing—elude me. Then there’s the popular fat-cat slip-on hybrid with a loafer upper and a white-sneaker sole, which just looks like a tragic-identity-crisis shoe that doesn’t know what it wants to be. It all leans into a hyper-casualized mode of shapeless, sexless dressing, as if one must be always ready for an emergency pickup game, a nap, or a trip to the gym that clearly isn’t happening.
