The Plimsoll and the CVO: Let’s Converse

HUNTER S THOMPSON is reported to have been a fan of the Converse Chuck Taylor’s in optical white. Surely that’s reason enough for any man with a pair to have a pair. And yet neither this brand nor this model is today an inspired choice. Chuck Taylors are safe, but safe in the way a pair of chinos from Old Navy is safe, not in the way a 1911 cocked-and-locked in the waistband is safe. When did Hunter S play it safe? There’s nothing wrong with Converse All Stars. Were Doctor Thompson alive and well today, though, we think he’d be hunting for other footwear options. Among other things.

Hunter would be a fisher in other waters today. Image source here.

Plimsolls? What the hell is a Plimsoll?

Sometime in the 1830s, the Liverpool Rubber Company invented a shoe with a canvas upper and rubber sole. They were intended as beachwear, and they sported a line around the rim of the rubber sole roughly where it met the canvas upper to which it was glued. The purpose of the line was to indicate the point at which one’s feet risked getting wet (vide this article). They were known simply as “beach shoes,” and they caught on.

By the 1870s, these beach shoes acquired the nickname “Plimsolls.” This was a very apt borrowing. A Plimsoll is

a reference mark located on a ship’s hull that indicates the maximum depth to which the vessel may be safely immersed when loaded with cargo. This depth varies with a ship’s dimensions, type of cargo, time of year, and the water densities encountered in port and at sea. Once these factors have been accounted for, a ship’s captain can determine the appropriate Plimsoll line needed for the voyage [NOAA factsheet here].

Liverpool at the time was home to one of the busiest harbors in the world. That meant: lots of ships, lots of Plimsoll lines, and lots of people frolicking on the beach and by the seaside in odd shoes ringed with a stripe. Since the waterlines on the rubber-soled beach shoes resembled the Plimsoll lines on ships’ hulls – and as they served a broadly similar function – the reference was clear, and sticky.

Read more about the history of the Plimsoll.

Yankees are more likely to call these sneakers, canvas shoes, or tennis shoes — as a style-name, ‘plimsoll’ is slightly archaic. It may be more common among speakers of the Queen’s English: both The Telegraph newspaper and TheIdleMan blog have offered lists of the best plimsolls for men. Archaic or not, there is content on the web dealing with plimsolls: how men should wear them, famous women who made them fashionable, and other names by which plimsolls are known.Whatever you call them, here’s some intel about brands you should know.

White, Blue, or Grey

Pylon the style without harboring any doubts. Image: New York Magazine via TheIdleMan blog.

For summer – and in those blessed latitudes where it is always warm and sunny – we think men aiming at a classic look should stick to blue, white, or gray plimsolls. With khakis or linen trousers – and especially if you will be wearing a blazer or light sports jacket – these are the three colors to wear: they best communicate I am an adult, and they never shout for attention. If your ensemble is worthy of an approving nod, and you yourself are not a spluttering bivalve, interest in you and/or your costume will be commanded by the sensibility you reek from above the ankles. Plimsolls may punctuate a man’s ensemble, but they don’t sell it.

The Red and the Black

We have a pair of black plimsolls, and there’s both a time and a place for them. With rolled-up jeans, they’re urban and hip and absent an aggressive edge. Mindful minimalism par excellence (and very Muji), black plimsolls are best suited for short sprints down sidewalks, dodging puddles in the pavement, and vaulting the gap between the slippery platform and sticky subway cars. They are wonderfully relaxed, sensible, and in a word: metropolitan. They have no place at the beach or marina.

We’ve yet to make up our mind about red.

Shanghaied

At the moment we are wearing Warrior-brand plimsolls. We scored ours on a street not far from The Puli hotel in Shanghai, from which city this fine old brand hails. Throughout China, Warriors are cheap and bountiful. Our pair cost RMB70 — about USD$10. We have had more than a dozen Warrior-brand plimsolls over the years, and we hold them in high regard. Though young urban Chinese once turned their noses up at them, Warrior has made a remarkable comeback over the past decade. The brand dates back to the 1930s, and their plimsoll line should not be dismissed as mere knock-offs or copies.

Read more about Warrior (hui li, 回力 “return + power/strength”) — here and here.

Sperry and Perry

Chuck Taylors say nothing. If you’re aged 30 or over, your Vans say too much — unless you actually do ride a board. Although you can source Warrior-brand plimsolls from outwith China, we’re not sure it’s worth the effort. Thank Neptune for Sperry.

Read about the birth of the deck shoe.

We have had nothing but good luck with our Sperrys, and we’ve had boatloads of them — from their traditional topsiders to their leather version of the plimsoll. Their Striper models (and that’s striper as in striped bass) in salt-washed twill are hardy, masculine, and run pleasantly wide. We are partial to the gray. Sperry refers to their plimsolls as CVOs — canvas vamp oxfords. Either everyone knows the abbreviation, or none cares.

FEATURE: The New York Times strides right into Paul Sperry’s closet.

Fred Perry was a British sportsman who distinguished himself in both tennis and table tennis. He is also co-creator of the sweatband and popularizer of the polo shirt. His brand has experienced reversals of fortune, as has product-collaborator Etonic. The classic Fred Perry fits well and wears well. Like the Tilley hat, it can be a conversation-starter. The logo is bold, but not so common as to be repellant.

Read more about Fred Perry here.

“Run Faster, Jump Higher” — but spend less

But why hemorrhage more cash than is necessary? Less expensive than our Warriors are our plimsolls from Walmart. At less than eight bucks a pop, you can pick-up three pairs – one pair in each of the three classic colors – for less than a single pair of Converse. We have Faded Glory (FG) slip-on plimsolls in both blue and white, and are partial to the blue pair. Now that they are beach-bleached and tatty, the blue pair is our favorite pair of lazy, don’t give a damn, yes-I-do-intend-to-finish-this-entire-bottle-of-Tanqueray summer sneaks.

The FGs plimsolls do not have visible logos or brand-indicators. None needs to know where you bought your plimsolls, but here’s what we think: If you are dressed well enough to be asked where you got your navy blazer (LL Bean), linen trousers (Nordstrom), fabulous Madras shirt (Orvis), and natty plimsolls (Walmart), you’ll score extra points for not having overestimated the importance of brand-name knockabout CVOs, and for not caring what people think. FGs are not as rugged as Sperry Stripers, but they lighter. If you’re currently counting your pennies, use some of the money you saved on your plimsolls to buy socks worthy of your wisdom, savvy, style, and thrift.

From top to bottom We have never owned a pair of PF Flyers, but it’s a toss-up between them and the Novestas. The PF Flyers site is an education in itself, and we loved Tom Cooke’s article in Heddels about “the rise and fall of the PF Flyer.” It has been years since we’d had a pair of Keds, but we’ll fix that soon. We haven’t yet found the best way to wear our Palladium CVOs with lug/commando-style sole, but we suspect it will involve pine-needles, mosquitos, and a kayak.