bespoke leather goods

My wallet

Once upon a time I wrote about men and their wallets. I feel that men come in two categories. The first carry everything they own in their hip pocket wallet, while the other are minimalists who travel lightly carrying little in their wallets. Whatever category a man falls into, his wallet of choice is unchangeable. I fall into the minimalist camp. My wallet is not much larger than an index card. Always was, always will be. That is why I was pleasantly surprised when I received an email from frequent commentor Doug Addington (Ldaddington at gmail) aka Old Polo asking if he could make a wallet for me.

Of course I said yes. We traded emails regarding my preferences, and what I carry in my pocket. I asked few questions in return not wanting to ruin the surprise.

Old Polo explained that be began leatherworking while repairing tack during his polo playing days. Now he designs and crafts all manner of leather goods for clients far and wide, and is available for bespoke commissions.

Three wallets arrived last week. I have a favorite but I have changed wallets every day since in order to select the "right one".

Each is oiled leather, much like a baseball glove.

My initial favorite

Same as the first only laced

I love them all, but someday, probably not soon, I'll have to settle upon a favorite. Old Polo's leather goods have my seal of approval, and I suggest that for something special you get in contact with him.

When I called to thank him for my prizes Doug told me of growing up in the Black Hills. Today is also the anniversary of the the Battle of Little Big Horn/ Custer's Last Stand (1876). That took place in the Black Hills as well.

Toad

Men and their wallets

From I Luv Fashion

Do men feel the same way about their wallets as women do theirs? I wonder.

It's been my observation that men come in two flavors. They either feel compelled to carry everything they own in their pockets, or they don't. Fit me in the latter category.

As with the ubiquitous tie, carryall men can count on opening that little package each Fathers Day and act surprised when they open a new wallet, just like their old one. They then spend the rest of the day throwing out little scraps of paper and lint, restocking the new wallet, looking at the pictures once more, then slam it into their back pockets.

Their backs hurt and never understand why. God bless them.

My group on the other hand, can't stand things in our pockets. Our wallets, while they reflect nothing of our inner goodness, are selected by us, with care to provide a place for everything. The thought of someone else selecting our wallets sends shivers down our spines. We also tend to keep them forever.

I had the good fortune to find a wallet while in high school, that was to me the last word in what a wallet should be. It was just the right shade of brown, opened the right way, was just the right size. It lasted 35 years. I nearly wept when it died.

After it died I experimented a bit. Never one to live in the past I tried this Bosca breast pocket number. It came well recommended, but somehow it just didn't work for me. I don't always wear a jacket, and this is exactly as long as the front pocket in a pair of Bill's Khakis.

After much trial and error I've settled on something a bit more esoteric. In my working days a major client was an international architectural firm. All of the principals carried a pocket case which held a number of 3X5 index cards. The Ettinger case in the first photo is as close an approximation as I could find.

It works perfectly as a wallet. Just a tad larger than an index card it holds everything I need in practically no space. (Currently holding 5 index cards, drivers lic, 3 credit cards, library card, gym card,and $50.) Built like a tank too. I ought to get another 20 years out of it.

Below is a photo of mine. Fits perfectly in a breast or front pants pocket, and not a 1/2 inch wide.

Try it you'll like it.

Toad