I chased a guy around the Beaumont Club before the Passion Pit show, trying to get a good shot of his feet, until I realized that he was not unique: 7/10 of the dudes at the venue were also wearing loafers without socks.
One loafer-wearing guy explained to me that he's gone sockless ever since he was a kid and got tired of his skate shoes wearing holes in every pair. Thing is, my problem is not with the lack of socks. It's more with the just-got-off-the-boat-gonna-have-some-brewskis-and-chill-bro, maybe-a-game-of-Frisbee-golf-but-can't-be-out-too-late-gotta-work-at-my-dad's-firm-early-tomorrow-morning loafers. They remind me of the pretentious golfers in Caddyshack. They remind me of Cary Elwes' character in Hot Shots.
And I bet they smell pretty ripe after a night of spilling beer and sweating inside the Beaumont.
The Passion Pit show unearthed all kinds of '80s nostalgia, I suppose,
and as the Lycra exercise gear and Keds come back around, so do the Alex P. Keaton duds.
If the loafers thing is an attempt to escape the whole dudes-in-flip-flops trend, I appreciate the effort. A man's hairy-ass toes should go unseen if at all possible. But boys, this just ain't working.
Like this guy, in the picture below, whose dad undoubtedly has a wicked condo in Breckenridge (and who was surrounded by pals in loafers, without socks):
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