So, after a little over two years, I wore a hole straight through the crepe sole of my Clarks desert boots. After a round of violent weeping and gnashing of teeth, I was prepared to hold a burial service, or another memorial of similar gravitas. These felt like the boots I became a man in, or something.
While the term “essential” is egregiously overused, desert boots are one of a handful of items that actually deserve the title. They go with damn near everything, and I found myself wearing them almost every day for a year or so—a default for my feet. Thus, when they were finally unwearable, I was just short of devastated.
Then came the decision. Do I pitch them? Buy a new pair? Do I spring for a resole? WHAT DO I DO NOW?
What it really came down to was whether I should re-support Clarks, who was probably going to just fine if I didn’t, or whether I should put money toward a local cobbler to hook me up with a new sole.
In that light, the answer made itself abundantly clear.
Tucked away in the shadows of the Francis Quadrangle’s infamous columns, on 8th Street in Columbia, Missouri, sits a little shop called Dawson’s Shoe Repair. I had walked by countless times, never giving the unassuming brick storefront a second thought—that is, until I wore a hole in the sole of one of my most beloved possessions.
Inside, I was greeted by a friendly man named Bob who took my Clarks, offered me a slew of resoling options, and promised to do his best with the monster ripple soles I had chosen. Bob, who has worked at Dawson’s since he completed his service in the Air Force in 1971, made quick work of my order and after a few days, I had fallen back in love with my old, worn-out desert boots. When it was all said and done, the price tag came to $75 to have my well-loved boots resurrected with a patina and sole that I don’t think you’ll find anywhere else. Compare that to the $100 I might have spent on a pair of new boots, and I’d say I came out with the better end of the deal.
The only task left is to find a fitting nickname. Suggestions welcome.
On Cameron: “The Henley” in California wash by Baldwin Denim; green waffle henley by Old Navy; striped shirt by Steven Alan; submariner watch by Military Watch Co.; whiskey tortoise “Preston” eyeglasses by Warby Parker; desert boots by Clarks, resole by Bob Wood at Dawson’s Shoe Repair.
Photography by Jarred Donalson.
Just checking in quickly to say: Come hang out with us at Dose Market on Sunday. Seth will be working alongside Max Wastler (All Plaidout) at the booth he’s running for Buckshot Sonny’s limited edition “Kamp Kit.”
Here’s an exclusive first look at the patch design for Buckshot Sonny’s forthcoming dopp kit with Winter Session. It’s based on the model Max took to summer camp as a kid. Says Max: “At mine, they spelled it ‘Kamp.’ We nod to that with our Kamp Kit, debuting at Dose this Sunday, June 24th.”
I was never one to gravitate toward hoodies growing up, mainly because they were never long, trim or interesting enough.
I liked the idea of having a track jacket but never could commit to it because my ideas of track jackets were attached to the ones everyone wore in high school with logos plastered on them. I’ve been down that road before and had vowed to not retrace my steps.
However, A.P.C., the notorious cult label of simple Parisian basics, caught my eye this past winter.
From what GQ would have you believe, “suits are to women what lingerie is to men.” Though our female readers might be the most authoritative voices to confirm or deny, we can’t find any evidence to dispel the notion.
That’s one reason we were so excited to connect with Richard Hall and McGregor Madden, the magicians behind Proper Suit, an online custom-suit maker. We met the guys just over a year ago at one of their fittings in Chicago and instantly connected because of our common belief that the modern world has eliminated all excuses for men not to look sharp.