Oh, man, I loved this. Your commentary on material culture and aesthetics is excellent. It’s precisely this aspect of your writing that I most enjoy about your perfume reviews, and also, I suspect, why certain folks find them insufferable and (because) not “useful” enough. I say screw usefulness! We should want to think and feel and say things more clearly, more sensitively, more penetratingly. To draw connections between the random objects (and fumes) that excite our senses and ground us… or swoop us up. You know what else elicits that beautiful dull pain you describe? A good essay. We climb on, you take us places. Bravo.
This fusion of comedy, philosophy and fashion, boat and car history with accents of mathematics and physics makes you ask if the soul of Schopenhauer might have emerged in NYC in 1950 where his father was a retail guru and his mother a student of Mme Curie, disciples of Bernays, their fabulous apartment was created at the height of art deco before they lost some but not all of their money in the Crash. Is there any discipline this short essay does not touch on? Yet the marvel is how the disparate elements never lose their place, held together by an invisible structure that makes you wonder just how far you want to enter into the mind of the writer who could accomplish this feat of control--and so easily! My two favourite sentences: What makes the search for the perfect loafer a truly romantic, and therefore doomed, quest is the fact that the purchase of a pair of shoes is akin to the taming of a wild animal. And, When you next drive a roadster, wear loafers or steer a 1930s sloop, think of yourself as a foot and try not to look like one to others.
No knowledge of or exposure to perfect boats. My sister had late model Miata which was darling, and a drunken cowgirl driving her abusive boyfriends very large and ugly 3/4 ton pickup ran a stoplight and T-boned that Miata. My sister was not driving it-a mechanic was taking it out for a test after working in some bearings or something. Miraculously, the mechanic survived with minor bruises, but the Miata did not. (For closure, the drunken cowgirl also walked away, and the pickup also went for parts.) After a brief period of mourning, my sister replaced it with a 4 wheel drive Ford Explorer, out of an excess of caution. Loafers, girl loafers, with tiny noses, both the penny kind and the ones with little tassels, are one of my favorite things! Patent leather chocolate or cream, soft glove leather turquoise, fuschia suede!
I recently bought a roadster, and I used to wear penny loafers in the 80’s. And now I got a real education on the many types of loafers….who knew? I mean I knew visually the style differences, but not all the details as so wonderfully described in the loafer link. More than I ever thought I needed to know, and fascinating.
I did too! But I am very bad, probably the first person to wear trainers in the family box at Bayreuth (Brüttings), and I've only gone from bad ro worse!
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed this post! I have a similar affection for loafers & roadsters (not familiar with the boat, we grew up with catamarans). Thank you for this wonderful journey! 😀
OK, I don't have the loafers, but I do have a roadster.
Based on your article, my husband and I had a war of words yesterday about roadsters and cabriolets. In conclusion - I have one!
This little purple dragon has been taking up space in our garage for years - just for fun. I think we are too old for this uncomfortable and ridiculous car. Here in Eastern Europe, cars without a roof have always been considered an eccentricity bordering on embarrassing. We don't use them, but we don't want to sell them. It's a question of romance and sentiment.
BUT! After reading your article, I see the higher principle of this useless thing and OK: I will take the MGF on a trip in the spring and try not look like a foot.
What a delightful morning read. I know nothing of roadsters but still recall the fit of my loafers from Talbot's. I was about 12. The left and right shoes showing their wear differently, echoing my irregular instep and the half size difference between the two. Like a cowboy boot, always better pre-worn!
Loafers and roadsters do not naturally evoke that beauty ache, a kind of homesickness is how I experience it, in me. Reading your precise, funny, transparent and thought provoking prose does take me places and helps to recognise it in loafers. In my experience I can never arrive at the 'places' beauty can take me, or only in the tiniest moments, hence the dull pain of homesickness, heimwee in my native language. Listening to Voces8, an English a capella choir singing Rachmaninoff's Bogoroditse Devo (written during his exile) that dull pain takes me places. You can find it on youtube, although it is best heard live in a medieval cathedral. If you have never heard it I hope you are in for a treat.
Thank you, that wonderful singing brought back some heimweh of mine: I used to occasionally attend vespers at the Russian church in Nice, where a divine choir of four singers, unseen up on a balcony, would float musical snow down to us.
Oh, man, I loved this. Your commentary on material culture and aesthetics is excellent. It’s precisely this aspect of your writing that I most enjoy about your perfume reviews, and also, I suspect, why certain folks find them insufferable and (because) not “useful” enough. I say screw usefulness! We should want to think and feel and say things more clearly, more sensitively, more penetratingly. To draw connections between the random objects (and fumes) that excite our senses and ground us… or swoop us up. You know what else elicits that beautiful dull pain you describe? A good essay. We climb on, you take us places. Bravo.
Wow THANK YOU!
This fusion of comedy, philosophy and fashion, boat and car history with accents of mathematics and physics makes you ask if the soul of Schopenhauer might have emerged in NYC in 1950 where his father was a retail guru and his mother a student of Mme Curie, disciples of Bernays, their fabulous apartment was created at the height of art deco before they lost some but not all of their money in the Crash. Is there any discipline this short essay does not touch on? Yet the marvel is how the disparate elements never lose their place, held together by an invisible structure that makes you wonder just how far you want to enter into the mind of the writer who could accomplish this feat of control--and so easily! My two favourite sentences: What makes the search for the perfect loafer a truly romantic, and therefore doomed, quest is the fact that the purchase of a pair of shoes is akin to the taming of a wild animal. And, When you next drive a roadster, wear loafers or steer a 1930s sloop, think of yourself as a foot and try not to look like one to others.
I am blushing and smiling from ear to ear.
No knowledge of or exposure to perfect boats. My sister had late model Miata which was darling, and a drunken cowgirl driving her abusive boyfriends very large and ugly 3/4 ton pickup ran a stoplight and T-boned that Miata. My sister was not driving it-a mechanic was taking it out for a test after working in some bearings or something. Miraculously, the mechanic survived with minor bruises, but the Miata did not. (For closure, the drunken cowgirl also walked away, and the pickup also went for parts.) After a brief period of mourning, my sister replaced it with a 4 wheel drive Ford Explorer, out of an excess of caution. Loafers, girl loafers, with tiny noses, both the penny kind and the ones with little tassels, are one of my favorite things! Patent leather chocolate or cream, soft glove leather turquoise, fuschia suede!
Fuchsia suede!
I recently bought a roadster, and I used to wear penny loafers in the 80’s. And now I got a real education on the many types of loafers….who knew? I mean I knew visually the style differences, but not all the details as so wonderfully described in the loafer link. More than I ever thought I needed to know, and fascinating.
Finally someone clicks on a link!
I did too! But I am very bad, probably the first person to wear trainers in the family box at Bayreuth (Brüttings), and I've only gone from bad ro worse!
Perfect for Götterdämmerung!
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed this post! I have a similar affection for loafers & roadsters (not familiar with the boat, we grew up with catamarans). Thank you for this wonderful journey! 😀
Catamarans! Maybe I should write a post about that.
Please! 😀
Done 😉
Is MGF a roadster?
Yes.
OK, I don't have the loafers, but I do have a roadster.
Based on your article, my husband and I had a war of words yesterday about roadsters and cabriolets. In conclusion - I have one!
This little purple dragon has been taking up space in our garage for years - just for fun. I think we are too old for this uncomfortable and ridiculous car. Here in Eastern Europe, cars without a roof have always been considered an eccentricity bordering on embarrassing. We don't use them, but we don't want to sell them. It's a question of romance and sentiment.
BUT! After reading your article, I see the higher principle of this useless thing and OK: I will take the MGF on a trip in the spring and try not look like a foot.
You’re going to need some driving loafers! And don’t worry: women in a roadster never look footy.
What a delightful morning read. I know nothing of roadsters but still recall the fit of my loafers from Talbot's. I was about 12. The left and right shoes showing their wear differently, echoing my irregular instep and the half size difference between the two. Like a cowboy boot, always better pre-worn!
Hi Irene my impression is that you are fully ready for roadsters!
Loafers and roadsters do not naturally evoke that beauty ache, a kind of homesickness is how I experience it, in me. Reading your precise, funny, transparent and thought provoking prose does take me places and helps to recognise it in loafers. In my experience I can never arrive at the 'places' beauty can take me, or only in the tiniest moments, hence the dull pain of homesickness, heimwee in my native language. Listening to Voces8, an English a capella choir singing Rachmaninoff's Bogoroditse Devo (written during his exile) that dull pain takes me places. You can find it on youtube, although it is best heard live in a medieval cathedral. If you have never heard it I hope you are in for a treat.
Thank you, that wonderful singing brought back some heimweh of mine: I used to occasionally attend vespers at the Russian church in Nice, where a divine choir of four singers, unseen up on a balcony, would float musical snow down to us.
That is very good to read! Russian Orthodox church music, especially vespers have the quality that in Arab music is called Tarab. Wonderful.