Haunted
July 1, 2010 by Natalie
An architect cannot haunt a house before it is built. This is among my favorite true things. You can design a building with wall-to-wall theory, beauty, and meaning, but then something like a grumpy spirit comes along and becomes the single most remarkable thing about the place. The dead thing brings it most to life. How about that.
I just bought a pair of blue leather clogs at a consignment shop and I dare say they are haunted. The toes look like they’ve kicked and the heels look like they’ve dug. I swear to you, they have as much verb as they do noun in them. They bear the evidence of having been cobbled, worn, and recobbled with quirky asymmetry. They have gobs of glue at the seams, a few repairs to the heels and say “Oscar Austad” on the bottom of the wooden sole.
For five dollars, I bought more than a pair of clogs. I stepped into the ghost of one particular pair of feet that have wandered elsewhere. Oscar, wherever you are, thank you for your shoes.
I recently bought a used pair of Multnomah Leatherworks clogs just like those! They’re comfy but sometimes they just disappear. Hmm. What I’d previously thought was merely a housecleaning issue I will now blame on haunting.
Do yours have a name on the bottom? That makes the blaming even easier.
“Oh Oscar. You rascal!”
Austad’s is a mail-order golf shop founded by Oscar Austad. Do you think the clogs had cleats on them at one point?
http://www.austads.com/
I have a pair of these I bought and paid for when I was in high school from Multnomah Leatherworks. I had to doublecheck but sure enough, there was my name on the bottom. They are the only piece of clothing I have from 20 years ago! I just couldn’t part with something that was made by hand especially for me with my hard earned money. I am now about to turn 40 which is how I find myself on your website. I’m in the market for a time machine…
Oh, Jen! I love the idea of the bike as a time machine. I have one bike that feels like eternal springtime, and another one that takes me back to my first track bike when I was a messenger. And I like to think that I am pedaling my current commuting/touring bike right on into the bright future in which I eventually take a trans-America bike trip…
Does your ideal time machine take you both forward and backward, too?
Mostly I want it to take me to the elusive present.