How to Build a Small Shoe Wardrobe
Four pairs, built with care, that will see you through most of adult life.
The shoemaker's shop on the corner smells of warm leather, natural wax and something faintly sweet that I have never managed to name. A man in a canvas apron lifts a pair of black oxfords from the bench, turns them over once, and presses the welt with his thumbnail as though testing fruit. They are twenty years old, he says, and they have another twenty in them. I think of the eleven pairs I have owned in that time, and how few of them ever reached a second resole.
A small shoe wardrobe is not an exercise in austerity. It is the quiet recognition that a few good pairs, rotated and looked after, will outlast a cupboard of cheaper ones and look better throughout. Four is enough. Each pair earns its place by doing a different job.
Begin with the black oxford
It is the least exciting purchase and the most necessary. Weddings, funerals, interviews and any evening that calls for a dark suit will all, sooner or later, ask for it. Choose a plain toe or a simple cap, closed lacing, a slim but not pinched last, and good leather with a gentle sheen.
Resist ornament. A black shoe should recede into the outfit and let the man above it do the talking. Look for a Goodyear welted construction, which allows the sole to be replaced several times without disturbing the upper.
Then a brown that works harder
The second pair should be the one you reach for on an ordinary Tuesday. A derby in dark brown leather, perhaps with a modest brogue detail, is forgiving in a way the oxford is not. It sits comfortably with grey flannel, navy tailoring, corduroy and a decent pair of jeans.
Dark chocolate is wiser than tan. Tan is a lovely colour, but it announces itself, and you will wear it less often than you imagine. A deep brown takes polish well, ages gracefully, and can be dressed up or down by the trousers above it.
A loafer for the in between hours
Every wardrobe needs a shoe that belongs to warm weather, travel and long lunches. The loafer is that shoe. Its lack of laces gives it an ease the other pairs cannot manage, and a good one is surprisingly refined.
I would choose deep burgundy or wine-toned leather, which sits happily between black and brown and suits both. A plain penny strap is quieter than a metal bar detail, and quieter is the point. Wear it with thin socks or none at all, and let it soften with the summer.
Something for the weather
The fourth pair is the practical one, and it should not be apologetic about it. A plain boot in grained leather, with a Dainite rubber sole, will carry you through wet pavements, muddy fields and the long grey months from November to March. A chukka is the simplest choice, and a country boot with a little more structure is the sturdier one.
Suede is pleasant in dry weather, but grained leather is better suited to a damp island. Leather soles look elegant and slip dangerously on a wet platform. Rubber is the honest answer, and no one who has crossed a London station in January will argue with it.
How to buy, and how to keep
Try shoes on in the afternoon, when your feet have swelled a little from the day. Leave roughly a thumb's width ahead of the longest toe, and make sure the heel does not lift as you walk. Never buy a size that is almost right because the price has been reduced.
Spend what you can, and then think in terms of years rather than pounds. A pair costing four hundred pounds and worn two hundred times a year for a decade is not an indulgence. It is rather good value, and it is better company than a pair that has to be replaced every season.
Care is not complicated, but it must be habitual. Insert cedar shoe trees as soon as you take the shoes off, and let each pair rest for a full day before wearing it again. Brush them after wear, polish them every few weeks, and take them to the cobbler before the sole is worn through to the welt.
With four pairs and a sensible rotation, no single shoe is worn more than twice a week. That rest is the secret the man in the apron knew all along.
A few good shoes, kept well, teach a man more about patience than any amount of advice.