clarks, you say?

pictures: alexa chung; the fashion spot, the lovely siri of ringo, have a banana! shot by mr newton

On my mind at the moment are strappy leather sandals. Jesus sandals if you will, with not a sniff of complicated 'strappage' a la The Gladiator. The kind of sandal that would most likely provoke a surprised and proud rejoice of 'Oh, they look sensible!' from one's Mother.

This is the holy grail of sandals, it stands out amongst it's contemporaries as the reliable sandal. After years of summer long flings with other flaky models, this will withstand bike rides, trips to the beach and more importantly every day adventures without withering at the sole and splitting in two. I can't take another regretful shake of the head from the men at Timpsons, the air of finality as you look down at your limp summer shoes in a sad broken pile is too much.

This Summer I shall make like they did in the good old days. Before we bought from shops (like my beloved Topshop) that apparently know little about hardy construction where footwear is concerned. And this all means buying some 'proper' shoes which in turn leads me to Clarks. Yes, Clarks. The Shoe Shop which (regardless of marketing makeover attempts) shall always be the kind of Old Aunt of the high street. Faithfully tucked away in market towns or old corners of shopping centres across the UK, their simply sensible style is just what I fancy and I'm not lying when I say this applies to their aesthetic too.

I shall leave you with a view of both the Kestral's (above) and the Gwyneth Susie's* (below) to win you over as well as your (for those of you from the UK) prior memories of 'proper' shoe fittings in Clarks as a youngster and a sense of their 'workmanship.' (*see, does the sheer prospect of wearing shoes with names like this not fill you with the urge to lead a Clarks-friendly lifestyle of cream teas and trips to the Bingo!?)