I recently took the plunge and bought my first pair of hand-painted shoes on an Italian last at Lodger. Due to the beautiful, deep patina, I assumed that a neutral polish would be the best choice. To keep the painstaking efforts into painting the shoes visible to the world, right?

Wrong. Luckily I had aired my views to store manager Clement. He explained to me that this is a common misconception and that using neutral polish can actually damage hand painted shoes.

The best way to demonstrate this would be to use the polish on a brand new pair. The effect would be small, but the sylvette would be coloured by the process. Every time you polish hand-painted shoes, a little bit of the paint is removed. Granted, you will get a wonderful shine, but over time the shoes will appear less vibrant in colour.

The shoes I had opted for were rosso diablo whole cuts. So I immediately asked for a dark red or cherry polish to accompany the shoes. Wrong again. Clement helpfully explained that a dark brown would be best to bring out the patina of the shoes. It is easy to forget that the layers of polish are so thin that they very subtly add to the colour of the shoe.

The colour of the slab of polish in the tin doesn’t necessarily have to match the colour of the leather perfectly. I guess I should have re-read my article on colour theory before going into the store…

I have since spoken to friends who swear by neutral polish for their shoes. I get the impression that this was more out of laziness than choice – one tin for all their shoes. One guy gave me an honest critique. He said that neutral polish does seem to “dry out” quicker on some of his shoes and that he has to apply quite a lot of water and extra polish.

He also noted that neutral polish dries white in the small cracks and folds on his shoes. It also collects in the broguing. I am going to buy some to see if this is the case and investigate which leathers neutral polish is more likely to dry out.

But something tells me I will be sticking to multiple tins of coloured polishes and creams regardless. Even if I could use the space they take up in my new apartment. (Yes, it is THAT small…)

Well, I’m less paranoid. And a lot braver with my cap toe Lodgers than I was a couple of months ago. My colleagues were incredulous when I told them that I didn’t take them to New York in September. Since then, they have been to Madrid, Alton Towers (kind of) and, finally, to the Big Apple.

On my third wear, I was terrified that the strip of leather on the bottom of the sole was peeling away at the toe. However, I have since learned that this was nothing to worry about. Apparently some people’s gait causes this to happen initially, but with more use the ridge would wear down and smooth out. This is exactly what happened.

I then got a slight scratch on the toe. That really annoyed me. But a couple of layers of polish and it is not noticeable to the naked eye. Unless you grab the shoe and examine it extremely closely, which I regularly do.

That said I am becoming more accustomed to the look of a ‘worn-in’ shoe. I am not suggesting that people should deliberately scuff up a brand new pair of shoes to make them look better, but there is an appeal to a looked-after shoe that creases in the right places, has been lovingly polished and whose comfort is immediately obvious.

More importantly, I have enjoyed the versatility of the shoes. In Madrid, I wore them with a navy suit with a thin pink and blue pinstripe. In Uttoxeter, I wore them with dark blue, pressed jeans. In New York, I wore them with a dark grey and blue checked suit.

None of these outfits cost a lot of money. Indeed I would almost be embarrassed to say where some of the clothes were bought. But the shoes made them work. In an excruciating exchange in a Manhattan elevator, I was complimented on my dress sense. This has never happened before and it must be down to the quality of the shoes.

In the past I think I have underestimated the value of shoes in making a first impression. Whether we think about it or not, when we meet new people we look them up and down. So it is important to make an impression where the eye slows down; at the top and at the bottom. Which reminds me, I really need to get a haircut. Not even the smartest shoes can distract from the curly mess I am sporting at the moment.

All in all, I am a lot more relaxed about wearing my new(ish) shoes.

Hang on a minute though… I’ve just noticed a gap in the heel stack that is on one shoe, but not the other.

And with that, the paranoia sets in again.

“New shoes there Nick?” On the morning of one of my best friends’ wedding last weekend, I was over the moon to be asked this question. Not because the shoes were new, but because they were not.

In fact, I have worn the black Oxfords in question regularly for almost a year. But with no suitable, newer shoes I decided to clean them thoroughly before the wedding. This gave me the perfect opportunity to try out the cream that I bought in New York last month and some saddle soap. I had used neither before.

Saddle soap comes in a tin similar to polish and is designed to keep the upper surface of the shoe supple. It contains fat which is absorbed into the uppers. As its name suggests, it was originally intended to be used on equestrian equipment, but many people have suggested using it on shoes. And applying it couldn’t be easier.

I left the shoe trees in as I cleaned to keep the leather taught. I then used a damp sponge to lift some of the saddle polish from the tin. After dipping the sponge into some water I then squeezed it to get a frothy lather. Finally, I then attacked the shoe aggressively with a liberally rubbing of the sponge on all areas of the upper, welt and sole.

Following the advice of a friend, I then left the lathered shoes to dry for 20 minutes or so before brushing away the (now slightly scummy) lather. I knew that saddle soap would thoroughly clean my shoes, but I was still surprised with the results. Apart from the odd crease owing to my gait, the shoes looked new, if a little matt and dull.

So the next day I polished my shoes with five layers of water and polish and two applications of cream early in the process. I was slightly concerned at the state of my life considering how long I had spent cleaning them. But my friend’s comment more than made up for it.

It was a good idea and he was offered cash, but he ended up walking away. This week I stumbled upon Dragon’s Den to see a guy called Ronan pitching for investment in Spit ‘n’ Polish ShoeShine.

Ronan pulled away a black cloth to reveal a modern looking shoe shine booth to Peter Jones et al. It had a comfortable seat (complete with sensors for head office to monitor use in an essentially cash-in-hand business), a rack for financial newspapers, a mobile phone charger and a TV to display rolling news programmes.

The idea got me thinking about shoe care out of the home. I have often seen a guy with a small pitch at Liverpool Street station and there is an excellent stand at the Burlington Arcade near Piccadilly, as well as an occasional pitch in Canary Wharf. I once got so excited in the bathroom during a business meeting (not like that) that I had to take a picture on my phone (not of that). For there was a self-service shoe shine stand in the corner.

Other than these fleeting examples, London is not a great city for shoe care on the go. In my experience, New York’s shoe shine culture is much better developed. There are more stalls on the street and more hotels with self-service machines by the elevator.

But how much demand is there? Ronan’s business asks £4 for a five-minute shoe shine; it’s £3.50 in the Burlington Arcade. That is a lot of money if you own a number of pairs of shoes.

And I wonder how specialist the employees are. Does he know that my English shoes need less water with the polish than my Italians? Is he aware that I like my shine to gradually dull towards the back of the shoe? Is there a risk that he is a teenager in a part-time job that doesn’t really care?

I look forward to seeing Ronan’s booths at the airports and train stations he is targeting. Perhaps I will try one out. But until then, I will save my pennies by looking after my shoes myself. After all, it doesn’t take long to briefly clean them after every wear and polish them fully once a week. And I know them better than anyone else.

Perhaps this is why most of the Dragons scoffed at Ronan’s claims that every booth would make an operating profit of £55,000 per annum based on seven customers an hour for 16 hours a day, every day of the year. One thing you never see at a shoeshine booth is a queue.

James Caan was tempted by the claims of a £2 million operating profit by year five and offered the £108,000 Ronan wanted. But James wanted 40% of the equity stake and Ronan only wanted to give up 10%.

I may not entirely agree with the business plan, but I hope Ronan proves me and the Dragons wrong.

In my last post I talked about developing the perfect polish. But shoes should also be nourished (cream, not polish) every six weeks or so. I struggled to find anything definitive on the internet, so I was excited when my colleague leant me the April/May issue of The Rake.

On page 117 of the Singapore-based men’s style magazine there is a feature on a 12-step shoecare programme. It follows Takashi Anzai, Hermès Ginza’s footwear care expert, on his process.

For a novice like me, it is scary stuff. The article implies that the full process should be done as close to every time you clean the shoes as possible. Do I really need to take sandpaper to the soles every time? I don’t even have a paintbrush to touch up the sole edges, let alone ivory to smooth them.

Once again, Clement at Lodger’s words ring clearly in my ears: “You don’t need to spend an hour every time you clean your shoes. A thorough clean every six weeks with regular polishes in between is perfect.” (If I keep hearing Clement’s voice in my head, I promise I will go to the doctors. It is borderline frightening now…)

With this advice in mind, the article makes more sense. A cleaning milk applied with an old cotton shirt helps remove any ingrained dirt and I don’t need to actually paint the sole edges. Touching up with wax polish will suffice (pictured).

The description of cream application is useful too. Until recently, I didn’t even realise the need for cream on shoes. The introductory paragraph uses an excellent analogy: your shoes are like your face, they both need moisturising if you want them to look good for longer.

Anzai adds cream in the same way you should add polish; with cotton wrapped over your fingers and in a circular direction. He then evens out the application of the cream using a soft bristled brush (horsehair). Finally he uses a “carpet-like” glove to further distribute the cream and then a soft cloth for a final polish.

While a soft cloth is handily described as “like the shoe mitts provided at most good hotels”, a “carpet like surface” is not. I’m guessing it means more shag-pile than the thin stuff at airports and offices, but who knows? I will endeavour to find out.

Also, I have heard that cream takes a layer of polish off. Surely it is therefore advisable to add another layer of polish after you have applied the cream? In addition, I always used a water-resistant spray on my shoes to protect them. Does this affect the moisturising qualities of the cream? All questions to be answered soon. My search for the perfect polish is far from over.

Pig bristle, horse hair, cleaning milk – advice for the perfect polish often sounds like an agricultural affair.

I must admit, I am new to looking after shoes properly and the amount of advice on the best methods is a little intimidating. I was that guy who buys a pair of black shoes and wears them until they fall apart. I just used to rub in some polish furiously every few weeks, then brush it. That’s bad. Apparently the leather isn’t being nourished, leaving it prone to cracks.

So it is about time I learned simple and effective techniques.

For a routine polish, it is important to start with a clean surface. So I now use a hard bristled brush to wipe away the dust and grime of city life. I start lightly and then increase the pressure to remove the inevitable commuter travel scuff marks. (The marks left by pram wheels resulting from crammed train carriages need the most work.)

The next stage requires knowledge of how much water the leather of different shoes needs to help absorb the polish or cream. This is where a shoe novice like me struggles. Luckily, Clement at Lodger saves the need for excessive trial and error by drawing a distinction between Italian and English shoes.

For English Lodgers, Clement tightly wraps a cotton cloth (it can be an old t-shirt) around his index and middle fingers. He then sprays water onto his covered fingers and gently dabs them into the polish (or cream, but that is a debate for another day.) From my earlier days of liberally applying splodges of polish I have learned that it is easier to add more polish, than take too much away. So be sparing.

This method provides too much water for Italian Lodgers. I was in the London store last week and Nathan (managing director of Lodger) boasted that his family technique is best for the Italians. The trick here is to have a small amount of water in the lid of your tin of polish. Then lightly dab your fingers in so that only the smallest circle of water appears on the cloth.

After polishing countless Lodgers, Clement conceded that Nathan’s small change in process is essential. (It occurs to me now that I don’t know why this is the case, but I’ll find out the difference in the leathers and get back to you.)

I went home and put the two techniques to the test. Nathan’s method is harder to execute, but I’m sure I will get better at judging the amount of water. Nonetheless, I carried on and followed the timeless advice of gently building a layer of polish by working it into the leather in small circles. I wanted the toecap to be shinier than the heel with a gradual transition down the sides of the shoe. Hmm. I’m sure practice will make perfect.

To achieve a shinier toe cap on the English shoes, I remembered my army cadet days and breathed onto it as if misting a mirror. This added a tiny amount of extra moisture which helped develop the shine.

Once the shoe had been polished, Clement’s voice echoed in my mind and I avoided brushing the shoe again. A simple demonstration in the shop revealed that brushing leaves bristle marks that even an extra buff would be hard to hide.

If you do wish to buff further, use a soft clean cloth and don’t use too much pressure. This will be enough to remove the soft circular patterns left from applying the polish. (Personal tip: I find that a Microfibre cloth is best for this. You can usually find them next to the polish… in car shops!)