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by the Shoe-whorse
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It's been a grueling summer for the Shoewhorse. Whereas a real horse needs a new pair of shoes every fifty miles or so, the Shoewhorse needs at least four new pairs each season, and this summer has been downright dismal! I'm not one of those moocows on Sex in the City who needs a new pair of Marc Jacobs for every Tupperware/dildo party, but I do like to have options, and this hot spell has been a dry one.
The free pair of Dekline Palla's that I got were totally gorgeous, but they didn't fit right, so I passed them on. I got two pairs of free shoes from Duffs, but I gave one pair away-which you can read about below; in fact I've added two new whoreses to the brood-and have nearly destroyed the other pair with some rather vicious levels of skateboarding; more on that next issue.
I'm keeping my bridle up. Fall has always been my fave season, and I am looking forward to some kicks in a red or a brown; something that will look dashing as I ride my pushstick through brilliant piles of freshly raked leaves with my scarf flapping behind me in the cool air like a forgotten dream of a dreary place flitting away for good…
See you on the streets!
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Matt Hensley's Signature Duffs Shoe, The Gambler
For a while it seemed like skateboard fashion-no matter how progressive-was possessed by an unshakeable silliness. When ravers and rollerbladers appropriated the fat pants style, skateboarding was primed for an era of clean simple attire. Pants could be worn without a belt, t-shirts had dropped from XXXL to L and floor-grazing wallet chains had all but disappeared. Then came props.
Props were tongues cut out of an old pair of sneakers and stuffed under the tongue of a new pair so that the whole shoe took on a more rotund appearance. I can't say who in my group of friends-or in the skateboard community at large-was responsible for the invention, but I do remember the first time I gave props a go. I had just bought a brand new pair of tan Duffs' Strombolies.
“Dude,” my friend Brandon said, looking at my new shoes, “those shoes are dope, but they'd be twice as fuckin' dope with some props.”
“Props? I don't know, you think so?”
“Those Duffs were fuckin' made for props.”
I gave Brandon a quizzical glare. I didn't really like the idea of stuffing my new shoes, but Brandon was sort of the elder in our group of friends. Plus he got a box of boards from Planet Earth once in the early nineties, which afforded him a sliver of local celebrity.
“Dude, they're screaming out for some props,” he urged.
“I don't know.”
“Here,” Brandon said, “I'll show you. Give me one of them”
I took off a Strombolie and passed it to him. He put it on the table-I think we were at Wendy's-and then took off one of his shoes. Reaching into it, he pulled out a prop. Brandon's prop was highly advanced. It was actually two tongues taped together with athletic tape. There was a patch of grip tape across the top.
“What's the grip tape for?”
“Fuckin' keeps the props from sliding all around in your shoe.”
Brandon set the prop on the table and went about loosening the laces on my shoe. Then he expertly slid the prop into the Strombolie and handed it back to me.
“Hold onto the prop with your thumb when you put it on so it doesn't slip.”
I slipped my foot into the modified shoe, following his instructions, and stood up. Damn, I remember thinking.
“See that shit?” Brandon howled.
“Yeah, it looks pretty cool.” My ankle suddenly looked very svelte sticking out of what resembled a giant cinnamon roll.
“Fuck yeah it does. Now give me that shit back.”
Props quickly became unnecessary as skate shoe companies began fortifying their shoes with huge pillowed tongues that had internal side straps anchoring them to the sole of the shoe. Most skate shoes in and around 1996 wouldn't have looked strange at all if worn with a lunar suit. The puff factor has subsided somewhat over the years-it hit its crescendo with Osiris' D3, a shoe so husky and absurd it has to be seen to be believed-and I am happy to report that the Duff's Gambler has practically no tongue bulk. Duffs actually left the shoe market during the years of bloat. I don't know if they were regrouping, or if they retreated into a hollowed out mountain to design a set of props with the ability to conform to any foot using nanotechnology, but Duffs are back.
Their new line has this weird squiggle on the sides. It kind of looks like a poor man's Nike swoosh; in the same vein as the Payless shelltoes that have four stripes instead of the Adidas-owned three. The squiggle is actually very fetching, and the Gamblers are probably the most comfortable shoes I've ever owned. Right out of the box they felt like hand-me-down slippers your grandpa might give you when he gets a new pair. The suede didn't hold up very well to the rigors of my sweet ollies, and the green dye consistently streaked my grip tape, but I don't really care. Did I mention they feel like slippers.
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Duffs' Seville: Jason Adam's Pro-Model Sneaker
When I sent my e-plea for free footwear to Duffs, they sent me not one but TWO pair of shoes. I kept the green Gamblers for myself and gave the Sevilles to one of my operatives, Leif.
Leif, what was your initial reaction to the Sevilles?
They looked like a skate shoe that a dad would wear, you know, to be hip in his kids' eyes. When I put them on with black Dickies, I thought of Ben Stein.
Did you skate in them at all?
No. I no longer own a skateboard.
So aside from not having kids, you really were like a skate dad. Are they comfortable?
Yeah, they are comfortable. But they have a really puffy tongue.
Any compliments?
Only from the wife.
What did she say?
She said that they looked good, but I think it was because she didn't want me to spend money on a new pair of shoes.
You bought another pair of Duffs though, right?
Yes. Gamblers, which I am very happy with. The Gamblers aren't quite as puffy.
Would the Seville's have been cooler in say, 1996?
Yeah. I would have liked them better [now] if they were black or brown instead of grey.
You like a skate shoe that also functions as a dress shoe?
I'm just a fan of black. But it is nice when you can wear them with slacks.
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The Psycho-geography of the Ollie-spot on my Adidas Rod Lavers.
by the Feed Bag
White mesh.
Green rubber soles.
Orange leather heal accent.
Surely you know the Adidas Rod Laver-as classic a tennis shoe design as there is-but what you are looking at is an exclusive and rare color combo made rarer by the accumulation of grass stains, paint splotches and a ruggedly-handsome, shaggy and frayed ollie-spot.
There's something special about how a white shoe evolves over time. Every shoe gets dirty, but-much more so than a darker shoe-a white shoe seems to pick up and carry a bit of every adventure it embarks on; just like the Stanley Cup collects nicks, dents and barf stains. A flowing brook of footloose, city living has eroded my shoes into the Grand Canyon of toe comfort and laid-back aesthetic perfection.
Particularly important to this pair of Lavers is the aforementioned ollie-spot, which enhances the shoe's snowflake-esque nature. (It would be heresy to have a Shoe Whorse article without the simple and elegant phrase:) I skateboard. And as a skateboarder my ollie-spot is akin to a uniform or a battle scar. A stranger on the subway is no longer a stranger when mutual ollie-spots are espied. With a subtle meeting of the eyes and a miniscule nod of the head, a mild brotherhood is established. I've only been on my skateboard in these shoes once. The mesh couldn't survive much more. But once was enough to turn that gentle weave into a violent, burlap gash.
Look at the picture. These shoes have, no shit, been up a damn volcano and back. My Lavers are very nearly the best pair of shoes I've ever owned. While they've lost some sparkle, it's a small price to pay for the wisdom with which they embrace my feet.
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