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Shoes maketh man

The Boy asked if I could teach him great knowledge this morning during a quiet holiday hour between father and son. The object of the exercise: to “learn something new that only real grown up gentlemen know.”

He’s too young for whisky, cigars, or ladies. Politics is banned in our house for the holidays.

So what else could be left?

Personal views of a wordsmithing, sartorialist, horn-playing, state school Oxonian dad, rugby ref, recovering politico, and fan of vintage tailoring, Ralph Lauren style, and sharp writing.

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