Happy - You Don't Know Shit From Shinola - Memorial Day

Always a problem... shit from Shinola (shine-oh-la)

I heard it growing up but,  being an Army Brat,  I was exposed to a lotta confusing military metaphors.  A favorite of the Old Man's was, "He couldn't pour piss out of a shoe." When I joined the Army, a less elegant but still charming version was heard in Basic Training, "He couldn't pour piss out of a boot with a direction arrow on the heel."  As a kid, I wondered why anyone would pour piss out of a shoe much less,  how the piss got in the shoe to begin with. As a recruit, it quickly became obvious that, "piss out of a shoe (or boot)" was all about incompetence --Of which there was a great deal in Basic Training on behalf of myself, my fellow recruits and the US Army.

These logophile nuggets increased through training.  Drill Sergeant Hunt was fond of, "If your brains were gasoline there wouldn't be enough to power a piss ant motorcycle half way 'round a fucking dime." Or, "If your brains were cotton there wouldn't be enough for a piss ant tampax."  Obviously Hunt had something for piss ants.  My favorite was, "You people move like old people fuck."  Not sure why other than I'm very visual and any sexual fantasy in Basic Training was welcome.   

Infantry school introduced me to, "He couldn't piss up a rope."  Again, a perplexing statement when taken out of  Army context but eloquent in describing raging incompetence with so few words. By Jump School, things got strange with the 'Black Hat' from South Texas who called everybody, "Stevie Wonder." If he caught you chewing gum, he took it out of your mouth and put in his adding, "You chewed all the flavor outta this gum, Stevie Wonder. Why would you do that to me?"

Using expressions like these, once assigned to a unit, were frowned upon. They had become tired and over used -- Much like double monks.  Barrack's poets would take the stage and while the target was the same incompetence...be it the Army or a man other (than yourself), personal style ruled -- I'll never forget the bookish and frequently busted 30-something Spec 5 from Los Angeles who called the XVIII Airborne Corps G-3 Sergeant Major, "An unmitigated asshole." At 19, I had no idea what 'unmitigated' meant but there was beauty in the meter of it that I still find attractive today.

I drove for a colonel, later a general, who left a briefing, climbed into my jeep, turned to me and said, "Tinseth, I'm so confused I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my ass." I dunno...I think the Spec 5 has it over the colonel. 

When I asked my Old Man what Shinola was, he explained it was boot polish and the origin of the phrase went as far back as WWII.  I didn't say anything but all I could think of was, why did black boot polish look like shit?  Was everyone eating black beans and rice?  What it took years for me to figure out (piss ant brains) was that the Army of WWII wore brown boots and Shinola made a brown polish. So... now you know, Stevie Wonder.

No Horses - No Bayonets - One Bird

From left, MSG Ridout & Sgt Tinseth, Solid Shield, 1980

The Best Laid Plaids

Imagine what it would be like to have an unlimited budget at Paul Stuart while sipping single malt as three store employees wait on you hand and foot.  Go ahead and imagine away... because I don't have to. 

Billy Reid & the Tallahatchie Bridge

Water Rat lined coat - What do I know


Better you than me -- That's what I know

20 years ago, I was having dinner at Bistro 110 in Chicago with an ex-college roommate who's a screenwriter and film producer. He asked what I thought of his recent film, a sequel to a movie four years earlier. I slathered baked garlic on my bread and told him I wasn't sure why he did it. He looked visibly hurt and said, "I personally made over one million dollars on that film." I replied, "What the fuck do I know."

I look at Billy Reid and feel much the same as I did all those years ago. "What the fuck do I know." Today, as it was then, not so much as a question but as a statement. Reid's press release makes much of how recent travels to London and Europe inspired this collection for F/W 2012. You can take the boy outta the South but it's hard to take the South outta the boy... as they say.


A shoe with everything on it

The expression, 'Less is more' tends to thrive best north of the Mason Dixon Line. Of course, I'm General Izing but then, I'm an Army man. The South has always like the idea of 'everything on it.' Not that I advocate the minimal black trouser/turtleneck dude living with three pieces of Danish furniture in a Mies van der Rohe apartment. There is a middle ground.





It's just not here. The Blue Velvet suit ($2,195) threw me back to Charlotte, NC where drug store developed pictures of velvet clad prom boys in ruffled shirts with sideburns extending from their ear lobe to the corners of their mouths, sat proudly on stereo consoles all over Mecklenburg County. I'll never tell you what to wear, but if this is the look you're after, you can find it at Goodwill for considerably less.


I liked the Tweed suit ($2,295) with peak lapels. Not an entirely smart choice if last Winter is any indication of the global warming to come but damned good looking. Refreshingly center vented with a Daks waistband and the tweed is butter soft.




Camel hair sport coats ($TBD) are everywhere in the South. I'm not sure why I've never owned one. They're great looking with all matter of trouser: grey flannel, tartan, jean, cords...just stay away from khakis.

This one's incredibly well made but has peak lapels and side vents. This is exactly what an insurance agent from Charleston would come up with on Savile Row while visiting London for the first time. I'm guessing he would wear it in June with a Vineyard Vines tie.



The "Big Raincoat" ($795) or Duster, a la J Peterman, is a reminder that some men can pull stuff off that others can't. It's a great look if you're tall. Not so much if you're living in a world of boobs and belt buckles like some men I know (and am).




Billy's belts offer width over the narrow straps and Tiffany buckles so loved by the South (and me). Everybody is doing cheap versions these days: J Crew, Tommy H, Rugby... the usual suspects. The Reid buckle is distressed and that's silly. Made in Italy, it's got some heft and so, while never with a suit, it would show well with a sport coat. Monogram it with something witty like, "DRINK?" and you'll be miles ahead of the LOSER, Andy Spade.


Not very funny are two double breasted suits of such tire screeching anachronism that they belong in a Bobbie Gentry song. There's long been speculation over what Billy Joe and his girlfriend threw off the Tallahatchie Bridge. Whatever it was, I wish Billy Joe was wearing one of these suits when he jumped.




A grey wool DB called the Anderson ($1,695) comes with peak lapels and balanced button holes. As it should. The fabric is reflective of the price and I can live with that. Problems start with a patch breast pocket and end with a center vent. Things start getting weird with a jacket that buttons right to left.




Next is a cashmere grey DB ($3,295) that has peak lapels but the right lapel is missing a button hole. This is common in countries like Germany -- where apparel design is like watching someone hammer nails with a Stradivarius. The patch pocket stays and like the Anderson, throws off the stream lined DB aesthetic that is so London. The center vent remains but at least it buttons left to right.

I'm guessing that these two d-b's are cut for tall skinny guys with no ass. Hard to tell. If so, it's a look that the youth should enjoy. In the mean time, I'm looking for 1970s Soviet magazines that featured suits like these -- almost exclusively worn by mustached civil engineers in Estonia.


My bang-the-table favorite is this Engineer ($?) boot. I was told the leather has been through some sort of wash. It reminds me of my father's elephant skin wallet he bought in Vietnam. There's a crinkle finish that looks like an elephant butt with cracks that give it character. Simple. Soulful. Worn easily by anyone. Only problem is...no one knows how much it is or if it's even being made. The one thing I really like...but then, what the fuck do I know.

Update on the boot: Received following from Billy Reid's p.r. firm, "You can credit the boot as price upon request because it's not being produced. However, if someone was interested in purchasing it, they could contact the New York store at 212-598-9355 to inquire if they have a similar item or if the boot could be made for them.

Smoother Than I Ever Was...

Grahame Fowler's Trickers

I'm clunky enough as it is. I got clunky eyebrows, a clunky butt, clunky hair and a clunky gut. Nothing about my body is smooth anymore. But, I once was smooth... in places ... when I was young. Maybe that's why young people are enamoured with Trickers. They're smooth and they need some clunk. The UK made shoes & boots are built like a brick shit house and look like something a mailman would wear.

I told that to a friend of mine from London back in the '80s. Mutley called 'em Trompers. Not sure if that was a model or if it was just slang for Trickers in general. You'd see a few around the underwriting room at Lloyd's of London. They were Punk with a bit of the Wide Boy about them. Grahame Fowler and Chuka had a Trickers show last week. You can be sure Nick Wooster will be back for a pair or two...I wish he'd buy some socks while he's there.



Smooth Justin Ropers # 50025

My favorite boot is this Justin Roper with a riding heel. Pointy toed boots are a bigger turnoff than Trompers but the Roper has a simple rounded toe. They're the color of my coffee and I'm not too proud to confess they were ordered, Style # 50025, from J Peterman in 1993. They're smooth as all get out. You're not gonna walk very far in 'em, but they're not made for walking. They're best for riding Western and these have seen some riding.


Riding Heel

I took lessons as a kid. First, at the Air Force Academy and later with my sister from private stables close by. On my birthday she and a couple instructors locked me in a tack room. It was about 105 degrees in August. Flies swarmed around saddles and blankets thick with horse sweat and funk. After about 10 minutes I thought I was gonna throw up. They all thought that was pretty funny and laughed for about as long as Grahame and Chuka did when I showed them the Imperial Leather soap I bought for $6.


14th Street Cowboy Boots

Sometimes I'll catch the whiff of horseshit by Central Park and be reminded of riding in Winter. A gallop through the snow -- just as smooth as these old boots. Every Fall I tell myself I'm gonna get back in the saddle but I never do. Maybe 'cause I'm afraid I'd like it too much.


Too much hat...

I don't think you need to ride to wear Cowboy boots. Just go easy. Boots, jeans, cable knit sweater... skip the hat.

If you're young and need some Clunk - Grahame will sort you out here. New ones are being added as I type. Sadly, the Justin #50025 is no longer available.

REI & The Eiger

(all images borrowed from internet)

I stumbled across this book, The White Spider, shortly after to moving to Colorado Springs in the '70s. It's been a long time but images from a failed attempt on the north face of the Eiger are still with me.

I finished the book and went straight to a rock formation overlooking Constitution Blvd. Only 40 feet high or so, I didn't waste anytime in falling and luckily landing on a ledge. Flat on my back and with the air knocked out of me, I lifted my head trying to breathe while I stared and swore at my Frye Dingo boots.

One pair of Vasque boots later I headed back. They were chocolate brown with red and black laces and soled in Vibram lugs. I wore them everywhere and in school they separated you from the Goat Ropers in Stetsons with a clipped corner of a hundred dollar bill stuck in the hat band. Or, the Stoners in their herb scented flannel shirts or the John Denver look alike in denim jeans and denim pearl snap shirts. I was a Waffle Stomper.

While my Vasque boots could be categorized as Waffle Stompers I do remember feeling they were more authentic. While certainly no ice climber -- my boots had purpose. Primary being not to fall and have that problem breathing again.

I became a life time member of REI Coop for $5 and obsessed over the catalog where images from White Spider dovetailed with REI equipment creating dreams of my journey to Kleine Scheidegg where I'd eat Toblerone and hit on cute blonde girls from West Germany.

It didn't happen. And that's okay. The north face of the Eiger might be too authentic for me. But some day...before I die...I'm gonna have a drink at this hotel and remember how I was moved by a sport and by the boots it stood on.

Trad Rules (# 33) LL Bean Boots

Women and children may wear blue, green and red Bean boots. Men wear brown. Velcro Bean boots are only worn in Florida where natives never learned how to tie shoes.