A tale of five chasses
Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2006 11:57 pm
A member asked me to put together a comparison of a number of different expressions of the basic chasse style of shoe, highlighting what I considered to be the differences between them and what the aesthetic impact of those differences is. Well, that’s quite a tall order; but in a fit of bravado, I agreed to give it a go. Here’s to hoping that my effort doesn’t give him cause to rue the day that he asked me.
Let’s start with a definition: a chasse is a split-toe derby shoe where the side panels below the apron are integrated into the quarters of the shoe. In other words, there is a single piece of leather running from beneath the apron all the way back to the heel of the shoe. I’m not familiar enough with shoemaking history to know where or when the term originated, I do know enough French to know that the word means “hunt;” and that the prototypical version of this shoe would certainly be appropriate for stalking after game in the muck.
That prototypical version of the chasse is the JM Weston Hunt shoe, ref. 677. I call it “prototypical” not becaue it is the first chasse that was ever made (I have no idea if it was or not) or because it is the most outstanding version of the chasse (it’s not) but rather because it’s the first shoe most shoe enthusiasts will think of when the word “chasse” is spoken. It probably doesn’t hurt that the model name is Chasse in the original French. In any event, the Hunt shoe is a big boat anchor of a shoe. Many states and most foreign countries ban felons from owning this shoe because it can be dangerous in the wrong hands.
It is triple-soled, Norwegian-constructed, and has steel plates in both the toe of the sole and the heel. The apron and toe stitching are structural, meaning that they actually attach different pieces of leather together, with the apron stitching being done on the top of the leather and the toe stitching being done on the underside of the leather. Notice the arc running from between the first and second eyelet to the heel of the shoe that parallels the top of the shoe. This is a feature of many chasses, and it is one that I associate with casualness and sportiness. The last used for the Hunt shoe is consistent with its massive character. It is blunt-nosed, deep, and shapeless, very much like some of the lasts that Tricker’s uses for their country shoes or like Alden’s Barrie last.
Second in our parade of chasses is lancepryor’s Santoni Fatte a Mano version:
Unlike the Weston chasse, the apron and toe stitching on this version do not appear to be structural, although it is difficult to tell for sure without actually examining the shoes. The most striking detail of this shoe, however, is the length of the toe stitching. It comes well up the vamp, which makes the toe look longer and slimmer than it actually is. This is still a massive and rugged shoe, with extended soles and Norwegian stitching; but the configuration of the toe stitching and the increased shapliness of the last make for a more elegant shoe than the Weston Hunt.
Still in the realm of a sporty, country shoe but more elegant than either of the previous two examples is Jona’s Norwegian chasse made by Riccardo Bestetti:
There is no doubt that this is a sporty shoe. It has the same arc running from the second eyelet of the shoe to the heel that the Weston Hunt shoe and the Santoni chasse have. It features rather prominently braided Norwegian stitching at the bottom of the upper, and the sole is only lightly stained. The apron and toe stitching (unusual in that they are structural but are done in the “molehill” style common to non-structural hand-stitching) are done in lightly-colored twine that calls attention to itself. The material used for the upper is shell cordovan, which is generally associated with country shoes. And yet, despite all this, this shoe has none of the clunkiness of the Weston or even of the Santoni. The reason for this, aside from the obvious virtuosity of the maker in constructing it, is the shape of the last. It is not the bloblike mass that was used for the Weston shoe. It does not have to rely on a trick like the extra-long toe seam to give it the appearance of elongation, as the Santoni shoe does. Instead, it is a graceful, shapely round-toe last, neither blunt nor too pointy. Although it appears to have more depth than one would typically find on a last used for a city shoe, I don’t think that many people would refuse to wear a city shoe made on this last. It would be lovely.
Smoothjazzone’s bespoke Edward Green shoes are one step further down the sporty/dressy continuum:
Again, we see the arc from the second eyelet to the heel of the shoe, but there are several details on this shoe that make it more citified than any of the previous three that we have discussed. This shoe has significantly less sole extension than do any of the three preceding Norwegian-constructed shoes. In addition, although there is a notched reverse welt, that is less attention-gathering than the Norwegian stitching that the other three shoes have. The style of hand-stitching on the apron. There is no molehill. There is only a pie crust. I have previously written that if I had commissioned these shoes, I would have had the toe seam continue perhaps a half an inch further up the vamp. I continue to believe that that would improve the visual appeal of this shoe, but consider what the impact of the toe seam is in its current configuration: there isn’t much of one. That makes these shoes look more like strictly apron-stitched bluchers and consequently more citified than a split-toe usually looks. The grain pattern of the kudu skin, of course, is another reason why this shoe must be classified as a country shoe; but the overall effect is far less rustic than the Italian chasse examples that we’ve looked at.
Finally, no discussion of the chasse style would be complete without saying something about Edward Green’s Dover:
Gone is the arc running from the second pair of eyelets to the heel of the shoe. Replacing it is an ordinary external heel counter. There is no notched welt, nor a reverse welt of any kind. One could, of course, order this shoe with one if one wanted; but I cannot recall having seen that configuration on this shoe. The soles are closely-trimmed – even though this example has double leather soles, they don’t look massive. The example in the picture above is made from smooth leather, although there are certainly many examples made from Scotch-grain or willow calf:
Still, even when made from some sort of grained calf, the patterning on the leather is much less noticeable than that on the kudu skin of smoothjazzone’s shoe above. Of course, because the canvas that the apron and toe stitching appear on is so much smoother than on the kudu shoe, the stitching itself stands out much more. Still, the Dover is the most citified of all of the shoes that we’ve examined here.
I should probably make it clear that “citified” is not synonymous with “elegant” or “better”. Jona’s Norwegian shoes, though certainly rustic, are nonetheless elegant and superlative. Likewise, another shoe, perhaps the Weston ref. 598 demi-chasse, would rate as more citified than smoothjazzone’s Edward Green chasses although hardly more elegant.
Let’s start with a definition: a chasse is a split-toe derby shoe where the side panels below the apron are integrated into the quarters of the shoe. In other words, there is a single piece of leather running from beneath the apron all the way back to the heel of the shoe. I’m not familiar enough with shoemaking history to know where or when the term originated, I do know enough French to know that the word means “hunt;” and that the prototypical version of this shoe would certainly be appropriate for stalking after game in the muck.
That prototypical version of the chasse is the JM Weston Hunt shoe, ref. 677. I call it “prototypical” not becaue it is the first chasse that was ever made (I have no idea if it was or not) or because it is the most outstanding version of the chasse (it’s not) but rather because it’s the first shoe most shoe enthusiasts will think of when the word “chasse” is spoken. It probably doesn’t hurt that the model name is Chasse in the original French. In any event, the Hunt shoe is a big boat anchor of a shoe. Many states and most foreign countries ban felons from owning this shoe because it can be dangerous in the wrong hands.
It is triple-soled, Norwegian-constructed, and has steel plates in both the toe of the sole and the heel. The apron and toe stitching are structural, meaning that they actually attach different pieces of leather together, with the apron stitching being done on the top of the leather and the toe stitching being done on the underside of the leather. Notice the arc running from between the first and second eyelet to the heel of the shoe that parallels the top of the shoe. This is a feature of many chasses, and it is one that I associate with casualness and sportiness. The last used for the Hunt shoe is consistent with its massive character. It is blunt-nosed, deep, and shapeless, very much like some of the lasts that Tricker’s uses for their country shoes or like Alden’s Barrie last.
Second in our parade of chasses is lancepryor’s Santoni Fatte a Mano version:
Unlike the Weston chasse, the apron and toe stitching on this version do not appear to be structural, although it is difficult to tell for sure without actually examining the shoes. The most striking detail of this shoe, however, is the length of the toe stitching. It comes well up the vamp, which makes the toe look longer and slimmer than it actually is. This is still a massive and rugged shoe, with extended soles and Norwegian stitching; but the configuration of the toe stitching and the increased shapliness of the last make for a more elegant shoe than the Weston Hunt.
Still in the realm of a sporty, country shoe but more elegant than either of the previous two examples is Jona’s Norwegian chasse made by Riccardo Bestetti:
There is no doubt that this is a sporty shoe. It has the same arc running from the second eyelet of the shoe to the heel that the Weston Hunt shoe and the Santoni chasse have. It features rather prominently braided Norwegian stitching at the bottom of the upper, and the sole is only lightly stained. The apron and toe stitching (unusual in that they are structural but are done in the “molehill” style common to non-structural hand-stitching) are done in lightly-colored twine that calls attention to itself. The material used for the upper is shell cordovan, which is generally associated with country shoes. And yet, despite all this, this shoe has none of the clunkiness of the Weston or even of the Santoni. The reason for this, aside from the obvious virtuosity of the maker in constructing it, is the shape of the last. It is not the bloblike mass that was used for the Weston shoe. It does not have to rely on a trick like the extra-long toe seam to give it the appearance of elongation, as the Santoni shoe does. Instead, it is a graceful, shapely round-toe last, neither blunt nor too pointy. Although it appears to have more depth than one would typically find on a last used for a city shoe, I don’t think that many people would refuse to wear a city shoe made on this last. It would be lovely.
Smoothjazzone’s bespoke Edward Green shoes are one step further down the sporty/dressy continuum:
Again, we see the arc from the second eyelet to the heel of the shoe, but there are several details on this shoe that make it more citified than any of the previous three that we have discussed. This shoe has significantly less sole extension than do any of the three preceding Norwegian-constructed shoes. In addition, although there is a notched reverse welt, that is less attention-gathering than the Norwegian stitching that the other three shoes have. The style of hand-stitching on the apron. There is no molehill. There is only a pie crust. I have previously written that if I had commissioned these shoes, I would have had the toe seam continue perhaps a half an inch further up the vamp. I continue to believe that that would improve the visual appeal of this shoe, but consider what the impact of the toe seam is in its current configuration: there isn’t much of one. That makes these shoes look more like strictly apron-stitched bluchers and consequently more citified than a split-toe usually looks. The grain pattern of the kudu skin, of course, is another reason why this shoe must be classified as a country shoe; but the overall effect is far less rustic than the Italian chasse examples that we’ve looked at.
Finally, no discussion of the chasse style would be complete without saying something about Edward Green’s Dover:
Gone is the arc running from the second pair of eyelets to the heel of the shoe. Replacing it is an ordinary external heel counter. There is no notched welt, nor a reverse welt of any kind. One could, of course, order this shoe with one if one wanted; but I cannot recall having seen that configuration on this shoe. The soles are closely-trimmed – even though this example has double leather soles, they don’t look massive. The example in the picture above is made from smooth leather, although there are certainly many examples made from Scotch-grain or willow calf:
Still, even when made from some sort of grained calf, the patterning on the leather is much less noticeable than that on the kudu skin of smoothjazzone’s shoe above. Of course, because the canvas that the apron and toe stitching appear on is so much smoother than on the kudu shoe, the stitching itself stands out much more. Still, the Dover is the most citified of all of the shoes that we’ve examined here.
I should probably make it clear that “citified” is not synonymous with “elegant” or “better”. Jona’s Norwegian shoes, though certainly rustic, are nonetheless elegant and superlative. Likewise, another shoe, perhaps the Weston ref. 598 demi-chasse, would rate as more citified than smoothjazzone’s Edward Green chasses although hardly more elegant.