Step It Up

This one’s for the guys.

I’ve noticed a disturbing social catastrophe among male associates unraveling at law firms from coast to coast, and it needs to end. The veil of uncomfortable silence needs to be lifted. So boys, on behalf of lady lawyers everywhere—nay, ladies, period—please know: It’s bad enough having to spend eighteen hours a day with your mangy ass, but if we have to look at your tattered, chunky, third-rate shoes one more time, we are actually going to vomit. Time to step up the footwear, guys.

I mean, Christ, do you think it’s easy?  You think it’s easy having to look at you?  Is it 1994?  Is it? Is that why you’re wearing those Kenneth Cole Reaction square-toe rubber bootlets?  Was there an awesome sale at Aldo’s last week?  Write this down: Here’s what you should buy at Aldo’s and Kenneth Cole: nothing.  Ever.  In fact, you should cross the street when even passing one by.

Hate to break it to you, but if you’re a guy and spending less than $300 a pop on shoes, you’re on the short bus of Big Firm Land, chugging along on your way to a career full of pro bono adoption cases and non-equity partnership. And spare me the whining about finances. You’re in the big leagues now, so why are you dressing your feet for work like some undergrad stoner who had to cut the Phish tour short to make his big job interview at White Castle?

And I don’t want to hear how egalitarian and above the foibles of fashion you are to notice. Just stop. Shoes count. Case in point—after nineteen hours stuck in a war room with you, after those bleary-eyed doc review goggles come on, there’s a decent chance that a subtle, yet slick pair of Zegna lace-ups may—may—lead to, say, a quick grope behind a stack of redwells, but there’s a 100% chance that a bruised $139 Florsheim leather upper will make me want to slam your pudgy potato face with a paper shredder until it bleeds. Repeat after me: Shoes matter.

So man up, act like the Big Firm Player that you think you are, and just go shopping. Start with the Bs (Barneys, Bergdorf, Bruno Magli) and move your way up the alphabet as you feel more comfortable. Can’t hurt to bring a friend along for some input—anyone with boobs who wears mascara on a regular basis will do. Go spend some money, boys. Not just because you’ve earned it (and you have!) but because your feet are making ladies across the firm want to stab you. Step it up.