I have a strange relationship with footwear. Growing up I was the youngest of three children. My parents being immigrants did not have the greatest start to life.

My brother and I were both born while my father was furthering his education. Needless to say money was tighter than fresh socks. One of the frugal corner cuts was passing clothing down to the next child. I often found myself wearing shoes that were on the other side of new, from my sister, and even sometimes intended for football played on turf. Being a child of the 80’s and 90’s, probably the greatest time for footwear, I was teased relentlessly. While classmates sported Jordan’s, AirMaxes, Reebock Blacktops and the like I was confined to Roo’s, McGreggors and other salty brands.

One summer when I was 12 years old, no more than a few days after school had let out my mother came home from a jog and pulled me off my bunk bed. “Get dressed, you have a job.” This is the summer I lost my innocence. I was a man. I had money in my pocket. I new how to spend it. Shoes. My obsession was so extensive that at one point both my parents sat me down in the living room in front of my shoe collection. It was like an intervention. Only I was in too deep.

My brother and I used to draw (he better than I) shoes and things. But the shoe sketches stayed with me, another dimension to my addiction. A way to expand my collection when my bank account says no. Maybe one day I can have a design of my own produced…

The latest of that collection that I just completed today, for todays Gentleman…