It's Gunboat Weather!

Vintage Bates (aka "Phi Bates") wingtips. The Bates Shoe Company doesn't make 'em like this any more.

While the frigid January weather in my corner of the world has moderated somewhat, it remains seasonably cold. Perfect weather to drag out the heavy shoes, give them a quick once over with the horsehair brush, and take 'em for a spin. I submit for your approaval a pair of vintage Bates wingtip brogues.

Spotted these in my best local thrift shop three or maybe four years ago and paid just US$9.99 for them. Very little wear on the leather soles, hardly any on the heels, and despite a few small nicks on the leather uppers, nothing that some moisturizer and two or three coats of highly buffed polish couldn't fix. I really worked to get the toes and heel caps glassy on these, and it still shows. By the way, old nylon pantyhose really help bring up that high shine on toes and heels, a tip I picked up online somewhere from ex-soldiers, who shined their dress boots this way back when soldiers still had dress boots and were expected to keep them spitshined.

Now, as far as I can tell, the Bates Show Company hasn't made civilian footwear since the early 1960s, restricting its focus to just law enforcement and military footwear. By my reckoning, that makes these shows at least 50 years old, but they still look (and feel) damn good for heavy winter weight shoes that go perfectly well with heavy corduroy pants on a cold winter's day. Thought about selling them twice, but I'm glad I haven't. This time, I'll keep them, so it's time to pick up yet another pair of cedar shoes trees since I never seem to have enough to go around the dozen or so pairs of shoes in my rotation.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

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Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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