The Shell Game.
Your ABCs - Alden Boots in Cordovan.
I came to Kim, Rudyard Kipling’s novel, quite late.
In Europe it’s somewhat uncommon to assign the novel in high school, say for an English course: as non-native speakers, the early-twentieth-century English and the lack of known historical context combined make for most teachers considering it as too much of a hurdle for students. Instead, I read Kim during my first year at uni - and not for a course (I was pursuing a science degree instead), but simply because I was money-poor but time-rich, and there was a ridiculously cheap second hand book store near where I was living at the time.
When I mentioned to a friend - who, incidentally, was pursuing a degree in English - that I’d started reading Kim the night before, said friend immediately mentioned that he’d always remembered “the shell game” in the novel. The way my friend referred to it made me think of the con game found in all touristy city-centres across the globe, a bit of sleight of hand combined with a desire to cheat a tourist out of a bit of currency. Only upon reading the novel, I realised that that’s not at all what Kim’s game is referred to in the book: it’s “the Jewel Game” or “Play of the Jewels” instead. (Both terms, incidentally, only appear once each in the text.) And, in fact, there’s quite the difference between the point of the game Lurgan has Kim play (i.e. spy craft) on the one hand, and the point of the tourist trap shell game (i.e. a con) on the other.
Now - did I write that intro just because I wanted to make an overly belaboured bridge between the short-con game and Alden’s shell cordovan game? Of course I did. So now that I’ve dug myself into this hole, let me try and make it worth your time by pivoting to my own example of the internet’s unanimously agreed - but largely disregarded - advice on why perhaps Alden should not be at the top of your list anymore even if, like me, you’ve been cursed with the genetic inability to exist without a healthy collection of shell cordovan shoes.
Much like I came to Kipling late, I also showed up rather late in the shell cordovan game. The aforementioned science degree didn’t immediately work out all that well for me. It took a hell of a lot of years before I’d somewhat managed to accomplish much of anything on the post-graduate employment scene. The 2007-2008 recession coincided with my early career, which meant that by the time I had “a shell budget” I was already in my late thirties, and a happy M&M: Married with a Mortgage.
Far removed from the Hype Beast/SuperFuture fiend of yore, I bought my first pair of shells not on the net, but in an actual brick & mortar store in Paris, at Upper Shoes. (Part of why I wanted to go through the Upper Shoes brick & mortar was that when the time came for a resole, I could just send them back to Upper Shoes and I wouldn’t have to bother trying to send Aldens across the pond - which, for fairly obvious reasons that require no further explanation, has become increasingly difficult.) That first pair was a pair of Alden 975C derbies - pictured below.
Alden 975C bought from Upper Shoes in Paris. Lovely people, lovely shop - highly recommended.
These shoes were (and continue to be) incredible. They weren’t my first Aldens: by the time I bought the 975 I’d already been wearing Indy 403 boots - the brown chromexcel ones - for a good while, courtesy of too much time spent on StyleForum and the aforementioned SuperFuture boards in the late 2000s/early 2010s. However, the 975s were a lot better constructed than my 403s. My Indy boots are noticeable sloppy in terms of stitching, in addition to both boots being incredibly asymmetric. The below shots show just how wonky they look:
(On shot they’re not shoe-treed as I’d just taken them off in an attempt to catch the first twenty seconds of sunshine we’ve had in half a year - they’re usually stored with Alden trees in them. This isn’t user error; they really are rather wonky.)
None of the wonkiness ended up having an effect on the Indy’s comfort nor on their durability, but I must say that I was well pleased when I saw how much better the 975s were in terms of finish. At this point I pretty much assumed (incorrectly, as it would turn out) that with shell being a costly material, Alden’s QC would be better on anything made in shell cordovan.
Both in terms of finish and comfort, the 975s set a new high benchmark for me. Not only does the Barrie last in E width (C/E) feel like it was made on a bespoke template for my gnarly feet, the shell ticked all of my boxes - and if you’re this deep into reading a post on the bizarre niche that is menswear, chances are you’ve heard all of these boxes before: how Alden shell is surface treated/covered through a proprietary process that transforms the standard Colour 8 Horween look into something that is even deeper; how Colour 8 seems to shift from eggplant, to deep purple, to red, to black; and, of course, how it’s that rarest of white elephants, i.e. a derby that works as well with beat up jeans as with dark grey flannel trousers - and everything in between.
Hard to find another pair of shoes that effortlessly goes between black flannel dress trousers & a lazy Saturday double knee fit.
As for the “C” in 975C, I was mostly attracted to the commando sole because my gait is very weird.
As previously mentioned on my first post, I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS - hence the name of this substack), which unfortunately has resulted in my fair share of foot and ankle injuries over the years. I wear out the toes of leather soles extremely quickly, to the point where I start wearing into the welt already when the rest of the sole is barely worn in even. Rubber has proven significantly more durable under my wonky feet than leather, particularly as Europe isn’t exactly flush with cobblers anymore (which is a generous way of saying that I have zero confidence that there will be anyone left who can resole GYW shoes in 5-10 years from now). So whenever I can, I go for Dainite or some other rubber sole solution - which in case of my Aldens usually means a commando sole.
About a year after buying my 975s I bought a pair of #8 Tankers, also on a commando sole. I got these from Skomaker Dagestad in Norway, (see link here) a shop I can wholeheartedly recommend. (Anecdotally: I put in an order for my Tankers on a Saturday afternoon & received an e-mail not more than a few hours after, with the shop owner asking for confirmation on my sizing & whether I was familiar with the Barrie last/combination lasts used by Alden).
When these came in I spent the better part of half an hour giddily telling my better half to “just look at these - look at how good these look!”
Tankers in #8 on a commando sole - bought from Skomaker Dagestad, which I highly recommend as well.
Similar thinking again: I’d rather buy Aldens through a store that also does their own resoles, as I’ve little interest in sending my shoes off to the US each time I wear through my toes or heels. Skomaker Dagestad came highly recommended for their repair and resole jobs, so I bought the Tankers full of confidence that these would be with me for the long run. The first few times I wore them I pretty much thought the same thing: these things are awesome, and built like a tank (pun unintended) - these will be on my feet when they push me into that big oven at the mortuary.
Unfortunately, mixing my remains with some sweet shell ashes seems incredible unlikely at this point - the glue at the front commando sole is already coming loose. If I wanted to, I could probably slide my fingernail right between the sole & the leather and peel it right off - and while I don’t know just how much life I’ve got in me, it does seem unlikely that I’ll have run my race before these soles give up on me. You can sort of see the soft, hollowed out spot at the front in the picture below, slightly under & to the left of the split toe seam:
At this point I figured that, like with any lottery, I had gotten lucky once (975C) and unlucky once (Tankers) - so clearly the answer was to play the lottery again. Like the absolute stubborn eejit that I am, I bought another set of Tankers (in black shell this time - something about black shell just makes the otherwise too “boot-like” tanker model semi-suitable for the office somehow), also on commando soles and...
Yeah, they have the same issue. The glue Alden uses for this commando topy is just not very good, it seems, because this model has exactly the same issue as my colour 8 pair. The glue is slowly letting loose, and I could slide my fingernail right into/under the topy.
So here we are then - back at the shell game mentioned in the opening paragraph, i.e. a clever con game played in every big city across the planet. Like the tourist with the “I heart Paris” baseball cap getting caught up by the shell men, eager to bleed some money, I’ve willingly engaged with Alden on their own con. That initial pair of 975Cs was a hell of an apéritif, the first fix that led me to chasing the dragon. To this day, those 975Cs are exactly what I feel a shoe at that price range should represent: a great-looking, well-made product, with QC tight enough to ensure that no major points of failure are evident. In other words: it’s a very wearable luxury product, the type of luxury that comes with being completely carefree about its use - insouciant, as my southern neighbours would put it.
The right attitude to wear your “luxury” kit with. If you can’t wear it, what good is owning it? It just becomes a very expensive dust collector.
I’m actually pretty forgiving for QC issues these days anyway: as is the case with many aging SuFu fiends who have more disposable income now in our 30s and 40s, I’ve acquired enough “buy it for life” kit to genuinely last me however many cycles around the sun I’ve got left.
“Can’t Wait To See How This Breaks In,” Says Man Who Buys New Clothes Every Week"
So I’m well past the time where wonky stitching or a visible blemish on the leather or sole right off the shelf would bother me - scrapes, scars, mild discolouration, hell, even a bit of loose grain: all of these are fine with me at this price range. As expensive as brands like Alden have gotten, it’s still a far cry from high-end bespoke shoemaking (where I do think a customer could reasonably expect a near-perfection final product), so I don’t expect a pair of off-the-shelf shoes to be immaculate.
What I do think is fair to expect is that in the 850-1150 euro price range, the shoes that you buy don’t have the soles come apart in under 3 months. Unfortunately, this appears to be where Alden’s QC department differs of opinion with me.
So will I continue buying Alden shell, given that the aforementioned lottery has not particularly worked out in my favour? Much as it pains me to admit it, my Alden addiction is both irrational and terribly difficult to overcome.
“My name’s Michael, and I’m a recovering Aldenoholic.”
I’ve dabbled in a couple of other maker’s shell offerings. By far my favourite is Crockett & Jones. My Pembrokes in dark brown shell are built like proper tanks, and I can say hand on heart that I’ve never encountered even the smallest QC issue with any of the half dozen or so C&J’s that I wear on the regular. My better half also regularly wears some C&J’s, and every time she does I can’t help but compliment her on her taste again - they’re just such wonderful kicks.
However, C&J’s treatment of the Horween shell is distinctly different from what Alden puts on top of theirs, and as a result even C&J’s burgundy (which is also Horween colour 8) doesn’t quite scratch that Alden #8 itch, as it just doesn’t get the same depth and “layered” look over time. Below shot shows how different C&J shell “prend la lumière” - reflects the light and shows its depth.
Somewhat oversaturated shot on account of the sun being exactly at zenith here, but even then the difference in depth between Alden Horween in #8 and C&J Horween in dark brown shell shows.
I’ve also worn a pair of black shell Carmina tassels for a couple of years (which I’ve beaten the absolute crap out of, and which has largely cured me of my fear of wearing shell in the rain). Those Carmina’s have been absolutely solid daily drivers - but with Carmina’s recent pricing increases I will probably have to cancel my plans to do a custom/MTO colour 8 Norwegian Split Toe derby. Even during their twice-annual-MTO-weekend sales, a pair of Carmina shell NSTs now cost as much/more than shell boots from C&J or Alden - and that’s despite Alden being significantly more expensive here in Europe than States-side. And while Carmina’s material is great, and their build quality is somewhere between Alden and the (superior) C&J make, I’ve seen too much Carmina shell being delivered with cuts, rips, or discoloured streaks in the shell. For a pair ordered off the rack and easily exchanged that’s fine, but putting in a MTO and spending 6-9 months fretting about what the final product’s going to show up like is - well, not my idea of a good time.
Now - I’d hate for me to end one of my earliest posts on this blog-thing on an overly sour note (though I’m self-confessed proper curmudgeon, and with years passing I only seem to become grumpier). Let me try and turned this into a more positive take on all of the above: I’ve found a shoe last, i.e. Barrie, which fits me incredibly well. Shoes on that last are relatively easily available in my size (remarkably so, even, given my small feet). In addition to being tremendously comfortable, the shoes look damn good. And all that I’ve got to do to enjoy these shoes for the rest of my life, is to find a competent cobbler to give ‘em a good resole.
On that note: if anyone’s knows of a European cobbler that takes mail-in orders and who does a good job resoling Aldens - do drop me line. (Please - I’m begging here.)
Wear your kit in good health, and may the shell gods smile down upon us all.
Thanks for reading!
-M.