Shoes, and the end of the North East winter

I polish my shoes regularly, but salt stains still appear all winter long. I will not get into the stuffing with newspapers, or the shoe-tree splinting (both good ideas), but I did some casting about for solutions for the problem (pun certainly intended).

Note: do not attempt to polish OVER the salt stain.

There were plenty of "Anti-salt Stain" mixtures available at the drugstores and shoe stores, but one suggestion I found that works is a solution of water and mostly vinegar. A quick wipe with some white vinegar, and the stain disappeared instantly, drying in moments, and allowing me to polish them back to luster, leather and finish unharmed.

Before you suggest that I am in the pocket of Big Vinegar, let me say that I used less than one teaspoon for four pairs of shoes. It really does work.

If you have salt stains on suede shoes, I suggest being a bit more sensible beforehand in that case.

Not just for winter, this technique will serve my thoroughly white-washed Top-Sider sailing shoes as well, which get crusted with salt to point that the eyelets oxidize to a brilliant green.

I can only assume that in our world of pre-torn, pre-faded, and pre-thread bare style manufacturing, we can all look forward to being offered $1200 pre-salt-stained shoes at some point in the future.

Tea... (a momentary departure from clothing).

I keep getting these invitations in the mail from one group or another, inviting me to "High Tea", either specifically, or by way of group-invite. The invitation always concludes with "High Tea at the R**z" or "Four S*****s", "4PM. Proper Attire Required".

I think that far too few people dress when they ought to, and the casual movement has us by the inseam, but this High Tea business must stop. The "High" in high tea refers to the time of day by hands on the clock (6pm), not the airs and graces put on by the attendees. What is meant by these pretentious invitations is actually Afternoon Tea. A high tea is a meal, with sandwiches, eggs, meats, cheeses, relishes, and breads. Strong black tea (across which a mouse could trot) is served boiling hot, by someone particularly versed in its preparation, and usually in one variety only. There are no doilies, no little snacks, and no foppery. One can expect the crusts left attached to the breads, and mixed company ready to consume filling amounts from large serving spoon portions, and an absence of multi-leveled petit four towers.



High tea is a great way to have guests over for dinner without the pomp and preparation of a dinner party. High tea serves food from their baking dishes, and generally, each person serves themselves from the abundance in the center of the table. The tea is gulped, and it is a wonderful experience.


Afternoon Tea is around 4pm (tea time!), and if you respond to one of the misnamed invitations mentioned, you'll find women attempting to emulate Victorian restraint, nuance, and propriety. You will find tiny finger-foods, and lately, several varieties of ghastly herbal tea with no relation to black tea at all. The attendees will sit smugly, wishing it occurred regularly, hoping that those around them think that it does.


There is nothing wrong with a lengthy and over-blown afternoon tea, but I must take issue with the ludicrous misunderstanding and abduction of the term "high", which is assumed to be a qualitative descriptor, and makes the misunderstanding laughable.

Next time I get one of these invitations, I will arrive promptly at 6pm, invitation in hand, demanding my thick slabs of ham, toast, potted shrimp, and piping hot black tea.