My first stab at getting free footwear was a direct hit. I sent a rather gushy email to Dekline, a young skate-shoe company which is part of the Tum Yeto empire, and they agreed to trade a pair of shoes for some press.

My rapid success surprised me. Read this excerpt from my correspondence and I think you will understand why:“I fucking looove footwear! I have an almost obsessive-compulsive relationship with shoes, and my knowledge of skateboard footwear in particular is very substantial. Furthermore, because I skate, and pretty much only wear skate shoes, that’s what I’ll be writing about. But I need shoes … If I am to believe your political manifesto, we are sleeping in the same alley.”

Dekline has an anarchic “political profile” posted on their website. “There is ‘A NEW CLASS OF SOCIETY’,” it reads, “one that gives no recognition to what most people have believed to be the norm. Dekline is this ‘new class of society’.” Well, I thought, we’re all about fucking “the norm” here at Fran. We don’t even bother with lube. So I set fingers to keys, and discovered that it was very easy to slip back into an angst-ridden, pre-sexed, high-school mindset. Like a good whore, I was on my knees. We are sleeping in the same alley, what the fuck is that?

Like a horse, my ground-stamping made it clear that I wanted fresh shoes; I all but demanded them. A week later, I had some brand new “Pallas.”

They are truly handsome sneakers. Tan suede with a chocolate brown stripe down the side. Hey, fuck yes. It was blizzarding the week that my Pallas came in the mail, so I only wore them around my apartment. The suede was so clean and virginal, I didn’t want it sullied by filthy snow and melting-salt residue. I had to wait a full week before I could take them out into the world.

What they remind me of, as I am loping about, are some casual dress shoes my dad used to wear. I think his were Rockports. Pops sustained head-injuries after being struck by a car in his twenties, and has limited control over, and feeling in, his right foot. Ironically, these shoes make my right foot go numb each time I wear them—ostensibly because I should have asked for a size 11 rather than 10.5. This is spooky and frustrating. The shoes look so fancy that I want to wear them all the time, but the throbbing deadness that spreads through my right foot each time I do has cut that desire short. Taking out the removable insoles and replacing them with an older, worn set, has lessened the discomfort. It also helps if I wear dress socks instead of thicker athletic varieties.
Overall, not a huge inconvenience to suffer for free shoes. The Pallas tested well.

I know I mentioned this once already, but I really like shoes.