MY CAMPERS

Most definitely, amongst your worldly possessions there's at least one item that seems so quirky only you can appreciate its existence, or as a sage would say, it speaks only to you.

For me, it’s a pair of Camper shoes. I love them, although they make me look like I just walked out of some bowling alley without returning the borrowed shoes.

The first time I ever saw a pair was about four years ago when my nephew came back from Milan sporting a pair. I immediately liked them and assumed they were made in Italy. But much to my surprise, I was told they are a product of the island of Majorca, about 150 miles from Barcelona.

That following spring, upscale New York stores such as Barneys and Bloomingdale’s started carrying them. But they came with a steep price, especially for casual shoes — ranging from as much as 150 to 200 dollars a pair. Yet, upon closer inspection, one can appreciate the superb quality of the leather and the excellent workmanship involved, which justify their price tags.

To save a few bucks, my nephew promised to get me a pair when he went back to Europe that following autumn. However, when I went to Manila before then, I was thrilled to have discovered a Camper shoe store in Robinson’s Malate. They had quite a selection of styles marked down at 40 percent off their regular prices so, I immediately grabbed a pair.

In Manila, I would at times wear my Campers when playing badminton, although they're a tad heavier than gum-soled badminton shoes. However, they’re perfect for hardwood floor courts like those at Peregrine’s (located in the university belt area). But I must admit they're not nearly as comfortable as those made with Vibram soles usually found in Nike and Merrell sneakers.

If it is indeed true that shoes reveal something about the man wearing them — besides being mistaken as a bowling shoe bandit — my pair of Campers might hint my sometimes non-conformist nature — a major liability, especially in Manila’s clannish culture (wherein the finer styling of Tod, Ferragamo and Gucci are highly favored).

But much to my delight, the other day, I came across an article about the history of this shoemaker, which after reading it, made me appreciate even more so the only pair I own. Moreover, I no longer feel such a weird loner whenever I put on these quirky shoes.

The article goes on t say that the current owner of Camper, Lorenzo Fluxá, is a fourth-generation shoemaker and comes from a long line of shoe innovators. Supposedly, his grandfather hauled from England some machinery that modernized the family's shoe factory. When it was his turn to take over the family shoe business, Lorenzo found that he liked the shoe business, but was bored stiff by the company's usual product line.

Meanwhile, his urbane friends from mainland Spain kept asking him where he bought his slip-ons, which are basically espadrille-style footwear fashioned after old peasant shoes (in which islanders would cobble together from cast-off canvas and recycled rubber). Sensing an opportunity, he asked his father to help him launch his own line of casual shoes.

Although they would be a far cry from the family's established brand of dress shoes, Lottuse, Lorenzo's initial production of his new line of casual shoes went ahead; guided, though reluctantly, by his father. Consequently, their longtime loyal retailers were resistant; perplexed as how to exactly sell this new line of shoes designed after the local farmer shoes. Incidentally, Camper means peasant in Catalan.

Nonetheless, when the craze for blue jeans and slinky casual clothing hit the now dictator-less Spain, Lorenzo once again knocked on their doors and this time, successfully convinced those retailers to carry Campers. Sales instantaneously took off.

The design team at Camper would argue that the outside detailing of their shoes is not so important since they tend to get scuffed up anyway. They think that wearing them should feel like having a funny conversation with one’s self. It's a notion reflected in the soles of the shoes, which Lorenzo believes to be the soul of the shoes. Try saying that to Manolo.

In fact, they’ve even gone so far as to register many of their soles as trademarks, which they see as investments for themselves. Previous productions even had poems or messages stamped on the bottom (Hispanic causing panic, for example). A company that refuses to take itself seriously, its designers, in certain styles, will purposely not match the right with the left shoe. Surely, this was Camper’s way of demonstrating its wit. Now, I wonder if one of those stamped messages was borrowed from Chevy Chase’s - ‘70s Saturday Night Live's Weekend Update segment - headline: “General Francisco Franco is still seriously dead!”

As if to underscore its culture of weirdness, Camper employees were known to count the number of Camper customers on the island by examining footprints on the beaches of Majorca. The company also boasts that some of their employees came from various parts of the world. Shubhankar Ray, moved to Majorca from London last year with his wife and small child to work at Camper. This year's design interns came from Japan and Scandinavia, among other places. Then there's Kim Fabio, who grew up in the Caribbean and spent 10 years at Converse before moving to Majorca last year. If not by the weirdness, these people were definitely attracted by Camper’s old-economy attitude of unwillingness to compromise, as well as by its product line that reflects a strong sense of itself and rich in local character.

For more than a decade now, this peculiar footwear company has been quietly raking in more sales in its native Spain than any other casual-shoe brand. Now the company is going global, adding new stores in London, Milan, New York, Paris, and Taiwan. This explains a store in Manila.

Last year, more than 3 million pairs of shoes were sold, which brought in about $120 million in revenues. The industry's leading trade publication, Footwear News, named Camper "fashion brand of the year," and all kinds of celebrities — from Woody Allen to Rosie O'Donnell to Robert Redford to Bruce Willis — were soon seen kicking around in these unique footwear. Hence, Camper has become globally chic.

Although neither the largest shoe company in the world nor the most visible, it is arguably the most eccentric and, for the moment at least, the hottest shoe company on Earth.

I wish Camper a long existence. Way back during the '70s, a Canadian shoe company, Roots, conveyed the same sort of weirdness with their sandals called Earth shoes. I had a pair, but never got used to walking with shoes whose back part (heels) were lower than the toe part. I didn't know whether I was going forward or backward. I eventually gave them away, because I was already confused enough during that era and had no need for anything else that would only further discombobulate me.

Read the complete article, The Shoes from Spain by Ron Lieber.