Patina

If I had to sum up my intrigue with shell cordovan in one word, it would be patina. And I’m challenged to sum-up, posit, declare, announce, report, rebut, exclaim, disclaim, denounce or profund anything in one word. Patina. With a gleam. Translucent Patination if I'm afforded two words. I’m also reminded of Patina Johnson. A gal I could never get a date with in High School. Then again, I could rarely get a date with anyone in High School butcept Roxanne Burgess.

But that’s what it is…Patina. I told you the story about seeing a pair of Horween color 8 Weejuns when I was in college and trying to shine/buff/polish/admonish my leather Weejuns to preen shiny in the same way. It won’t happen folks. You have to swath your dogs in horsehide to get the gleam. Gleam gettin. Yep, that’s the rationale for plunking down the dough.

Tintin who fronts my other blog said that he was taught by an old Brooks guy at CasaBrethren to offer new shell cordovans a first coat of polish in black. I get that. A contrasting colour taunts the original vegetable dyed patinatinaterishness to preen conflicted with a swirl of different colouring. The trick with any polish applied to shell cordovan is to apply a stingy amount. The shells are impregnated with secret Horween sauces in which they’d been soaking for ages. Don’t over anoint them with anything.

I got an email the other day from a reader who has a storage unit adjacent to the Horween tannery in Chicago. He told me that he can smell the aroma of Horween’s broth when he’s in said storage unit. When he mentioned that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if his belongings took on a permanent smell of Horween Potpourri, it caused me to think of other options. I’d be tunneling my way in to the Horween hide-bathing locale. After a couple of midnight skinny dips in the century old secret brine, a private patina…a dermal depth might manifest. And my peeps would say… "ADG, you look shiny—and rested.”

My green-loden-vert Yuketens are en route. I keep checking the UPS tracking number every five minutes. I don’t think they’ll make it before LFG and I decamp to South Carolina for Thanksgiving but we’ll see.

Onward. In solitude for another little while. Before my girlfriend wakes.

ADG, II and LFG, the Only.