Much has been said, and written, about G.J. Cleverley’s bespoke shoes, likely most by the mouths and pens of men who’ve never owned a pair. There is no substitute for first-hand experience, so I took it upon myself to grab a pair from the endless selection of eBay. The gamble was with sizing and this cannot be avoided with bespoke pairs. As luck would have it, these shoes were made by old man George himself.

Products from Pukimo Raivio

Sartoria Nervesa, navy suit, size 48 EU
Cesare Attolini, light tweed jacket, size 50 EU

This I deduce from the pair’s sockliner which features Cleverley’s old address on Cork Street. A short message to the company and back confirmed that GJC moved away from those premises some 40 years ago. Cleverley was alive and well-heeled back them, so this pair gives Keikari’s reader an interesting look at what made his reputation so grand. It would have been swell to look at the shoe trees too, but they didn’t last long enough to come with the pair.

Today’s example pair is an elastic shoe made in the Tuczek-style from alligator leather. A short look at Keikari’s archives will remind the reader why that name is important. Cleverley and John Lobb Ltd. still market a few pairs in this style as Tuczeks. As Cleverley apprenticed and worked at Tuczek’s, his models were very much inspired by the legendary Nikolaus.

This pair doesn’t have that “suspiciously chiseled toe” that Cleverley has become known for. Instead we have a softly square one. The single leather sole is light and has a rounded, narrow waist, and the heels disappear under the heelcup delicately. Both display nothing that sets them apart from other West-End shoemakers. The welt, on the other hand, is cut extremely close and has very clean stitching that nearly disappears into the fudging.

The heelcups look oddly straight from the back, but the side profile is nicely rounded. The leather stiffeners inside are firm at the bottom but nearly disappear higher up. The elastic is, as the name suggests, very elastic and has an interesting light blue colour on the inside. The lining seems to be made from the kind of leather used for uppers, but it changes into linen at the front of the pair. For no reason I can come up with, the sockliners lack foam padding entirely.

The upper stitching is dense and neat all around. The alligator hides are simply stupendous. There is no cracking, very little creasing, and no scuffs at all. The hides feel soft and had a strong shine even before cream and polish. The scales at the back of the pair, on the other hand, don’t match the small and round belly cuts at the front. Looking online on the GJC website, this choice seems to be their norm still in the 2020s. The back scales are larger and square.

Finally, a word on the lasts. The proportions and form of the pair look very clean, very smart, and (to use that bland word) timeless. The shoes are some half a century old but have no shapes or lines that deter. To put this all in a single word, these feel proper. All this would have appealed to the British gentry who, of course, wanted to look and feel apart from the hoi polloi but didn’t want to attract the wrong kinds of looks.

While the proper appearance was the thing, I’m unsure how alligator fit into the  equation. I’d like to think that the pair was commissioned by an eccentric chap who wanted a smart pair for the club, and wore them only on special occasions. The closest RTW-lasts in current would be those created by Edward Green. Their forms look proper and never stick out. In sum, I feel Cleverley earned his reputation by being dependable, within reach, having a high enough quality, attracting the right kind of clients, and offering comfort as well as looks. Yet from what I’ve seen, the company’s shoes were nothing conspicuous, otherworldly or awe-inspiring. Simply proper.