Since the first chime of midnight 2011, I knew it was going to be a special year. How fitting that when all the bad habits get the boot and I opened my arms to new opportunities, my first shoot of the year was a pair of beautiful shoes.
I’ve known about Franklin & Sons for a couple of years now. Their founder Jane Franklin approached me at the tail end of 2010 to photograph her shoes for an advert in GQ. We’d never met, but when I got a text message from her on New Year’s Eve wishing me a happy new year, I figured it would be a matter of days before we’d start working together. It was the first week of January when she brought the shoes around. We hit it off quite quickly, chatting about life, redecorating houses, and the different personalities of our cats. She then pulled out two pairs of gorgeous shoes, which in just a glance I could tell these were the real deal. Franklin & Sons is one of those “bespoke British” companies that designs and hand-crafts shoes for the very well-heeled.
After recovering from my shoe-struck moment, we began discussing how she would like them photographed. We looked at the ad layout, and then dove onto the Internet for what she casually referred to as “shoe porn.” We visited countless sites of competing brands with gorgeous shoes. Some of the sites we looked at were as beautiful as the shoes they presented, while others may have had quality shoes, but the photography and web design fell flat. Note to competitors….an iPhone snapshot doesn’t really do your shoes any favors.
“You know your tea image,” she said, “I’d like a shot like that.” I’d done a shot a few years ago of a pile of tea in front of a teacup. I’d put the image on my site for a while, then forgot about it. Jane hadn’t forgotten it, but I knew precisely what she wanted. We continued perusing the various shoe sites, then she left me to it.
I must admit, I don’t have an extensive track record photographing shoes and when I think of my work, shoes aren’t the first subjects that spring to mind. People, yes. Clothing, yes. People in clothing, again a yes. People out of clothing…um…er…yes. But shoes? Why not? One of my photography classmates put it best, “It doesn’t matter what the subject is, as long as you light it well, the shot will be beautiful.”
Photographing Jane’s shoes was a delight. They were solid yet sleek, and beautifully crafted. While the upper part of the shoe was impressive, it was the sole of the shoe that really grabbed my attention, as it was constructed with what Jane called a “London Waist” or “Fiddle Waist” sole. The waist of the shoe refers to the different heights/extremes of the part of the sole in front of the heel, and with the London waist style, there is a beveled effect. Franklin & Son’s London Waist was even further accented by the two tones of leathers used to construct the sole. It’s this level of detail that men’s shoes, quite frankly, miss out, and consequently places this pair into a league of their own.
After having shot this exclusive pair of shoes, I decided to treat a few of my own shoes to a glamorous photo shoot. Why not? If beautiful lighting could do wonders on a gorgeous pair of shoes, surely my own shoes could benefit from bit of pampering and attention. Shoes are one of those things in life that I am really particular about. I don’t keep a large collection of shoes, ok, maybe a fair few more pairs than my brother, but he’s straight. Tennis shoes (a.k.a. Trainers for Brits), street shoes, running shoes, suit & tie shoes shoes, hiking boots, slippers and flip flops constitute my core collection, and each pair has been carefully selected to ensure it serves a specific purpose. I have little to no redundancy in my shoe collection. Also, I maintain a strict standard during the buying process, as if a pair happens to slip by and I’m not completely 100% behind them, they become abandoned at the bottom of my closet where they collect dust until they are donated to a charity shop.
While I tend to keep my idiosyncratic obsession restricted to myself, I am acutely aware of the shoes of those around me. When my parents were selling the family home, we met with a number of different estate agents (Realtors for American readers), and I advised my parents to not to go with particular estate agent (Realtor for Americans) based upon his shoes. When I told my mom, she nodded in agreement. She too couldn’t trust a man in those shoes. Even more importantly though, I’ve even made dating decisions based upon a prospective partner’s footwear. I shared shoe-selection criteria with my friend Rod, and he thought I was crazy. He insisted that “You can always change a guy’s shoes.” The only logical retort to that, however, was simply, “Yes, you may be able to change a guy’s shoes, but you cannot change that element within his psyche that told him it was ok to purchase–and wear–a pair of shoes like that in the first place.” Call me judgemental, and I’d have to agree.
I recognize that my own shoe selection may or may not be everyone’s cup of tea. It’s quite possible that I too have been ruled out of dates or lost out on a business deal because of my footwear, trust me, people are that petty (present company included). Still, they are my shoes and I stand in and by them. Lee says I’m hard on my shoes, so I shall apologize now if they look a bit tatty. Though the lighting did’t change, I decided to “keep it real” and give an un-manipulated view and ever-biased commentary on my own shoes, a photographer’s take of an “Unplugged” album from the 90′s.
I will start with my slippers. These were a Christmas present from Lee’s folks. Lee’s mom Wendy knows I love slippers and every Christmas I get a fresh pair from M&S. I wear them all the time, right now as I type in fact. I hate ambling around the house with cold feet or dusty socks. Ever since I was a kid, I worn slippers. When I was just five, I thought the best present I could give my cousin Chris was a pair of slippers. Not having any money, I wrapped my own red slippers up and gave them to him for Christmas. It elicited gales of laughter from the adults and I was informed how I shouldn’t give a pair of used slippers as a present, but in all honesty, Chris needed a pair of slippers and I didn’t see the harm. The slippers were put back into my own closet and I ultimately grew out of them. Most likely, they were chucked into a bag and given to Good Will.
My Workhorse pair is an ageing pair of shoes that had their its heyday in the early 2000s. Bought while on holiday in San Francisco, this pair replaced my absolute favorite pair of shoes, a pair of Diesels that I’d bought while living in Holland. While that pair is long gone, this pair is reminiscent of them. The red accenting first caught my eye, and to this day, keeps me from tossing them out. Though the soles are worn thin and the leather is scuffed beyond recognition, they are still good for painting the hall and demolishing walls.
My Suit & Tie pair has seen better days. Purchased at a time when the Pound was incredibly high against the Dollar, I gulped as I bought them thinking, “HOW MUCH???” Still, their price pales in comparison to the pair from Franklin & Sons. As I now rarely put on a suit, the shoes simply serve as a gentle reminder of a different time, a different life.
My Sporty Spice pair was purchased as a whim at an outlet mall just outside Seattle. Though I was searching for a different pair altogether, these grabbed my attention. Practical for walking, easy on the eye, and sporty enough to wear most anywhere. I’ve destroyed them a few times over, but a little dip through the wash and they’re like new. Lee isn’t a fan of this pair. He fails to see how well they round out my shoe collection, branding them as somewhat chav-tastic.
Asics are my running shoe of choice, and my Runners probably get the best beating out of all of my shoes. My friend Ben introduced me to Asics years ago, and I haven’t looked back. I’ve run two marathons in Asics, and every two years I go out and buy another pair. This pair is just over a year old and I’ve logged about 800 miles in them. Perhaps they will see a marathon in 2011, or maybe they won’t. Not sure yet, but at least they will keep me going on Tooting Common.
Controversy is the only word that comes to mind for this next pair. First off, I’m not a fan of white shoes. Kathleen Turner killing Patty Hearst in Serial Mom has left me scarred. Secondly, this pair is made by Ecco. Not that I get too hung up on brands, but my perception is that Ecco shoes are for a slightly older crowd. This was confirmed when I showed up at my friend Will’s place and he made a similar comment. White shoes for the geriatric crowd, nice. Still, Lee pointed out that the yellow banding made them somewhat trendy, so I conceded.Comfortable and attractive, they now make a a fitting pair for a man of my age.
My Sneakers were purchased last Easter at Aldo. While Aldo does have some stylish models, the quality of their shoes has a lot to be desired. I’d worn through a previous pair and thought I’d give this one a go. Within two weeks, the strap at the back broke. Having spent the better part of three months looking for “the right pair”, I opted to superglue them and not bring them back. They’ve been through shoot after shoot, street after street and finally last week decided to pack it in. The front of the shoe became unglued. Time to retire this 9 month old set.
My Boots were an impulse buy. I haven’t worn boots since my Doc Martins wore out in the early 90′s. I slipped them on and found them a nice change of pace from my largely tennis-shoe-centric collection. Although they were attractive, they were designed with one glaringly bad design flaw–they had a leather sole, which in rainy London is a recipe for disaster. After slipping my way through Soho one wet afternoon, I had them resoled with rubber and now they’re fine.
So those are my shoes. Simple, straightforward but trustworthy.There is a particularly memorable line from the film Sunset Boulevard. When the down-on-his-luck writer Joe Gillis (William Holden) sneaks behind Rudy’s shoe parlor to pick up his car which he has hidden from the repo men. Gillis quips, ”Rudy never asks any questions. He’d just look at your heels and know the score.” Similarly, if I see your shoes, I’ll be passing judgement too.
