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Musical poetry about highwaymen

It’s often Chamula’s none-more-chunky knits that get props in menswear circles. Handmade by Mexican craftspeople, audacious of pattern and immersive of pile. They’re shaggy-dog garments, designed to be worn for a lifetime, and moult bits of themselves wherever your travels take you. Personally I find the idea of knobbly, lived-in knitwear fairly repellent. And yes, I’ve tried battery powered knitwear de-bobblers. They don’t work. If I’m going to trouble the Mexican artisans of Chamula, it’ll be for these shoes.

On the one hand they look like the shoes grannies wear to shuffle around House of Frazer. On the other hand they’re definitely not the shoes grannies wear to shuffle around House of Frazer. They’re by Chamula of Mexico. Which sort of makes them cool.

The vegetable-tanned cowhide leather is cut, dyed, and woven by hand. You’ve got leathery laces and a crepe sole onboard too. And all for just $90. If you’re an angular sex-pest, all pointy Reiss trousers, divot of clay-styled hair and frantic eyeballs gobbling up stray glimpses of tit and leg, these aren’t for you. These shoes would not be at home in an All Bar One. They’re thinker’s shoes. A gentle man’s shoes. Perfect if you’re the kind of guy who makes lanterns out of vintage car parts and composes musical poetry about highwaymen.

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