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Nice Down Here
Column
Nice Down Here
Mr. Bootblack is a philosopher with distinct views of his own. He earns a living cleaning shoes. Once every two weeks he writes an article about footwear for GDS – and about the wearers.
The man must have been English. He took a photo of my stand from the other side of the street – which meant I couldn’t speak to him but he gave me a friendly nod – almost questioningly, so I could have declined, had I not wanted him to take the photo. Though what could I have had against it? I don’t know if you really can ultimately tell anyway but in this instance I’m sure and so I just say: I live and work in the most photographed city in the world – in New York City. It’s the city, the one that shapes our view of all cities. Well, this too is only my opinion but that’s how I and anyone else I’ve spoken to feels about it. And I don’t even come from here. In fact, I originally hail from a one-horse town in Georgia. I have the eye of an outsider. I’ve worked my way through the city. Now it’s my city – but who doesn’t say that about New York? Who hasn’t seen its picture? And who hasn’t seen a million photos? Or taken them?
The funny thing is: the photos are almost all grey. The view of the city is a view of the skyscrapers. From the outside at least. For New Yorkers who walk through its streets on a daily basis the city has quite a different colour. Lots of other colours. The city is colourful, here on the street, at ground level. The shop windows, the lights, the stores, the people. Down here it’s colourful. And I love that – just like I love women in black dresses worn with red shoes. And green with grey. And orange with blue. And obviously men who at least once dare to wear a more exiting light brown or even a really exciting colour. Shoes don’t have to be black, dark brown or sneakers, even when you’re wearing a suit. On the contrary: even with men’s outfits something has to stand out and if it isn’t the tie or a breast pocket hanky then why not the shoes?
The Englishman with the camera, which is why I mention it, didn’t look like a tourist. Apart from the camera he looked as if he was an architect on his way to the office. He was wearing a grey suit, perhaps not that formal in itself, a black coat and, here’s my point, heavy brogues in reddish leather. Wonderful. Brave. A statement, but one you rarely see here. Very European I think. And he then smiled and waved goodbye. Even from across the street I could see his teeth were British. Very British. Very funny. Then off he went with his shoes, that dash of colour at ground level. Lovely – just like the city itself.
