Introducing Jared Stanley….and his shoes
“THE BEAUTY OF HIS COOL FEET”
OK, Capitalism is probably done, at least for a while, so let?s be shallow this one last time! Salt?s crew has asked me to write about myself sort of above and beyond the book, the glamour, the dead trees, and the farts.
What?s left after all that? My favorite shoes, and some adventures I?ve had in them.
These are the ?Smart and efficient shoes? in ‘San Pablo Bay’. These shoes kept my feet warm and dry in 20 states, two of which were Mexican. They stopped being waterproof in January 2008, in Manhattan, in downpours, outside the Whitney, where I just got the fears from the Kara Walker show.
The leather is soft, now fairly scuffed, and they go with almost anything, though my mom thinks otherwise. I don?t think they make them as nice, now. The leather seems grouchier, or at least it did when I tried to get another pair.
They have western Europe on the sole, and say ?Hola? on the side. I like to think of them greeting the street as I walk. ?The name of the name of her feet / was the same as the name of the street.?
These shoes match two poems: ‘Decoration of Cloud and Pine’, and ‘San Pablo Bay’.
I bought my first pair of Winos in Middle School because Tom Verlaine wore them. My friends the Cortez brothers saw them in the gym and said ?eh, nice Cholo shoes.? They were nice. And cheap. In the Eighties, they cost about three dollars a pair. This was during the advent of the first Michael Jordans.
Tony?s family called them Roachkillers. Scott?s family called them Winos. And to me, they were the fucking shoes Tom Verlaine wore! These shoes contain the secret of the world.
Nowadays I get my roachkillers at the Merced Wal-Mart. This particular Wal-Mart has twenty-two (count ?em) security cameras astride the crenellations of its front wall. Just on the front! I had my students read about Andy Warhol and then we went on a field trip to this particular Wal-Mart. One of my students said the cameras were there because someone was murdered in the parking lot. That?s what she heard.
These shoes match the poem ‘Garage Sale’ because the guy with the hat was wearing them.
CLARKS DESERT TREKS SLIP-ONS
OK, so the first time I saw a pair of these shoes, they were on the feet of my ex-girlfriend?s yet-to-be boyfriend. New York City, the Mercury Lounge, March 2001. These I had to have.
Now, this guy was in a band that, at the time, was touring the world, and I knew that you couldn?t get these Clarks outside the British Isles.
So, when I first came to England, Thanksgiving 2002, I bought a pair in London, on the same street as Harrod?s. Phew! I was so happy. My friend Marisa was studying in Oxford, and she approved.
I remember Pret. I remember Kentish Town. I remember the well-appointed buses. I remember motorscooters with roofs. But I have the shoes, and I intend to wear them for a very long time. I remember Olafur Eliasson. I remember the way people made fun of the way I only used one hand when I ate. Man! I remember the streets of London.
These shoes match the poem: ‘For Jessica Stockholder’.
SPECIALIZED BIKE TOURING SHOES
Used on a bike tour of the North Coast of California, August 2008. The land of pot, gnomic hippie loggers, rich San Franciscan?s country homes, Wine, serious cuisine, and redwoods.
Included run-ins with logging trucks on windy two lane hillside roads, a Farah Fawcett look-alike flipping us the bird through the sunroof of her BMW (if I were a painter, that image would be my masterpiece), trivia night in Boonville (home of Boontling, the Anderson Valley Advertiser and the Mendocino Shamrock).
Here?s me with a giant gnome on a stump, in Guerneville, a village on the Russian River. My extended family had a persimmon / apple orchard up here, and in the 80s, I couldn?t believe that America could even have a river called the Russian River.
The first place I saw people of all genders in thongs. The first place I ever smelt patchouli oil. The first place I saw someone take a hit of pot while breastfeeding, on a beach.
The shoes match the poem: ‘Understory’.
RUSSELL MOCASSINS CHUKKA BOOTS
The next shoes I intend to buy. These shoes are for hunters. If you shoot a deer or an ostrich, they?ll make a pair of these out of them. I just want the regular ones, though, made of cows.
Yesterday, I was showing some students scenes from Padjaranov?s The Color of Pomegranates. There was a scene dramatizing the sacrificial lamb, where they were actually slaying sheep, blood everywhere. Peter said, ?it gives a whole new meaning to the sacrificial lamb? and I thought, well, actually, it?s the original meaning, and the actual thing.
Slaughter. There?s something very literal about shooting a thing and having your shoes made out of it. I don?t intend to shoot anything (unless I?m with Robert Stanley or Dave Ploeger) anytime soon, but I love to think about it. Wolverines!
There are four pages of instructions on how to measure your foot to ensure that these are the best fitting shoes ever. Oh!
These shoes match a poem you haven?t seen yet called ‘O Dress-Hearing Air’.