Yes, I know! The loafer again!
Don't be surprised if one day I show up with a penny loafers tattoo on my forearm. I'll have it in my skin as I have it in my heart.
You're probably thinking that a Panache on the loafer was enough. Maybe you even said: "oh the beard and his mocs."
Oh the beard.
OH! THE BEARD!
How I find you here. I too am a fan of this kind of outdated expressions. Expressions like "eating the leaf", "burning the candle at both ends" or "you have to beware of the wolf that bites" ? Oui, je sais. or even the simple interjection "please?" which takes us on a casual journey back to the 19th century.
Now you're thinking, "What is he talking about? This man is crazy!" But, contrary to what my psychologist (and my editor-in-chief) says, I'm not crazy.
I really want to get somewhere.
And the moccasin is like those old expressions. When they come up in conversation they surprise us, we find them a little ridiculous at first and then they charm us and we use them with delight. Exactly like when someone wears moccasins.
And I add that where these expressions are the most charming, it is in the mouths of those of whom one would never imagine that they use these expressions.
This is when the charm really works.
An old bourgeois in moccasins is nothing surprising, nor charming for that matter, but if he is a rebel, an outcast, young or not, or any person who was not destined to wear it, then it is exquisite!
Now, it's not just clothing, it's poetry.
Perhaps you have now understood the trap you have fallen into. This is not a simple post, it is a eulogy!
And this praise is not only sentimental, otherwise it would be too easy. No! It is reasonable too.
Yes, I persist and insist: wearing a moccasin is also a rational choice.
And I prove it:
When it comes to shoes, there are two schools of thought. There are those who tie double knots and those who tie single knots.
Within these schools there are other schools: those who pass the loop above and those who pass it below. Those who tighten tightly and those who lace loosely.
And finally, there are those who are on the terrace with a beer and their loafers, because they don't give a damn about these schools. It's truancy for life. They're already shod and already out living the life you could live if you didn't have to tie your shoelaces.
Let's think.
If we count a time saving on lacing of 30 seconds per day. That's 6300 seconds per month. Which is 105 minutes. Which is, by algebraic ricochet, 1260 minutes per year. That is to say 21 hours. (You can check but it will make you lose even more time.)
And I'm not counting the stubborn laces that don't want to be tied, the ones that have to be redone in the middle of the street, the ones that break when you pull on them...
21 hours of your life.
One day less.
Time is the most precious thing we have, right? We are always short of it.
At the end of the year, the world freezes on the evening of December 31st and the guys in mocs have an extra day just to do what they want: become better, for starters, save the world, finally!
From there to saying that the coronavirus vaccine was found so quickly because the scientists were wearing loafers, there is only one step.
And that, these 21 hours, is every year.
When it comes to annual reviews at work, who gets the raise? The guy in the mohawk. Does that surprise you?
Loafers are for people who go straight to the point. They are for those who believe that life doesn't wait, that it can be seized.
They slide their feet in without a shoehorn, click their heels, the door and leave.
For them, laces that twist or break, when you walk on them, are science fiction.
Loafers share this characteristic with slippers. They also share with slippers this feeling that the world is his living room. This is why the guy in loafers crosses his legs more often than the average guy.
Because he is comfortable. He feels at home everywhere.
The proof is that a guy wrote it on the internet. On a site called BonneGueule. You can't make stuff like that up.
So of course it's annoying.
There are those who would like to see in this one more symbol of the class struggle. But, I say it solemnly and once and for all, it is a mistake!
The only elite that the moccasin shod is that of the wise walkers! The only class to which these walkers belong is that of the light-footed. They jump over puddles, dance on the cobblestones, moonwalk out of trouble.
However, it's true: the moccasin is not for everyone.
It is made for free spirits.