Pedro and The Belgians

Belgian Shoes get a lot of play these days in the trad blogosphere. Laguna Beach Trad weighs in and clearly, if you do a keyword search of my bratty cousin AllieVonBelgiqueen’s blog you’ll get tons of Belgian posits.

There’s really no middle ground on these prissy little cult shoddings. You either like ‘em or you don’t. It’s no secret that they are faves of mine. One of my first posts ever was an admonishment to guys to either wear them with confidence or don’t waste your money. Who spends north of three hundred bucks for house slippers? Here’s my closing Belgians sermon from that early post ….

“Belgian Shoes…like a bowl of biscuit batter in the South or a hanky about to be inserted into a breast pocket …can smell fear a mile away. They all have strong characteristics that must be dealt with confidently. You’ve gotta step up to all three with the same approach…treat ‘em like you own the hell out of ‘em…let ‘em know who’s boss…handle them with strength and aggression or the outcome will be embarrassing. They’ll walk all over you.”

Reggie-Lord of Darlington Hall did a Belgians post recently and asked readers to share where they had worn their Belgians. “Tell me, where do you wear your Belgians?" Here is my comment…

“Mine have traipsed with me down South Audley...'round Grosvenor Square...back to Mount Street...just prior to then slipping over to Claridges for a drink. But honestly, the dissonance, the dichotomy manifest in wearing Belgians up to the top of the Sombrero tower at South of the Border on I-95 is palpable.”

So in honor of high and low brow dissonance, LFG and I stopped last week at South of the Border…the proverbial campy-kitschy white trash Mecca just south of the North Carolina line. You already know that I’m a sucker for tourist traps and junk shops and South of the Border, in all of its decline (God forbid its heyday) never disappoints.  

If ever there was a locale where Belgians might provoke more than a tisk-tisk it’s South of the Border. This is gun rack and camouflage land and an ass-whipping wouldn’t be totally out of the question here. I like pushing the proverbial envelope a bit and have now campaigned a tradition of traipsing around Pedro Land in Belgians.

We bought the usual kitsch while there…new salt and pepper shakers and plastic South of the Border placemats but the sartorial coup …why hadn’t I seen these before….was my Pedro Ascot. Dressing the neck is always problematic when one departs from a traditional necktie. I’ve provided you my two cents worth on this issue before. I don’t care what you put around your neck-ascot wise-you are still gonna project some element of Thurston Howell, III. There’s just no escaping it. Wait till the weather cools a bit and surely, my Pedro clad neck will be post worthy.

Onward, now from Boston on biz, Belgians in tow.

ADG