Shoe shine.

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In my mind polishing shoes has always been a masculine endeavour. In that same min a memory lodges of my father teaching me what I considered for a long time to be the otiose art of polishing shoes. I never knew my mother to polish shoes. My father polished his regularly and would have been ashamed to step outside without a good shine beaming up from his shoes. I gave up polishing at 14 when we moved to Ireland, a time when many good habits that my parents had inculcated in my psyche fell by the wayside. If my shoes were dirty I rubbed each on the back of my trouser leg. Then came sneakers, trainers, mutton dummies or whatever name is given to them in your cultural habitat. They weren’t for polishing, happy days. But last week during a rummage in the garage I came across my father’s shoe shine box - polish, brushes and cloths. I used them on my winter boots that I’ve started using again for my bimbling along the shore of a morning. Good, stout boots for country walks but also for wandering about town. Definitely not Sunday-go-to-meeting footwear. The transformation was remarkable. The looked very respectable and well cared for. Quite smart. So smart that henceforth I think I’ll include shoe polishing in my daily routine. When I get my hair cut on Tuesday I’ll be smart at both extremities, head and feet, and there’ll only be the bit in between to fix. Do you polish your shoes?