The perfect fall loafer can turn an okay outfit into an incredible outfit–and likewise, an okay Monday morning into a Monday morning when two coworkers stop you in the hall to ask what you’ve been doing differently to your skin because it’s glowing from within, to which you’ll say, “Nothing!” And that will be the truth, because you haven’t been doing anything differently to your skin. You just happening to be wearing the perfect fall loafers.
So believe me when I say I am very wary of instigating a “girl who cried wolf” situation when it comes to fall loafer-related claims. I recognize the gravity of this topic, one upon which the state of herringbone trouser cuffs and mood-boosting compliments hang. Believe me when I also say I do not make this claim lightly: I have finally come face-to-face (or rather, toe-to-suede) with fall loafer perfection.
They’re a new silhouette from M.Gemi called the “Sacca,” freshly launched just a few weeks ago. When I slipped my feet inside a pair, I knew with a whoosh of stomach-dropping satisfaction that they fulfilled all my preliminary perfect loafer criteria: suede, unlined, no embellishments, butter-soft, menswear-inspired, high-quality without costing half a paycheck, and available in the quintessential orange-brown hybrid color (amongst five others) that leaf-crunching dreams are made of.
I wore them around for the next 12 hours. This decision was conceivably against better judgment, since it is still August and more humid than a snail vacationing in Florida, but it turned out to be the ultimate test for my seventh and final perfect loafer criterion: breathability! Despite the August heat, despite the humidity, despite the fact that I was wearing a fall loafer during a New York summer, my feet emerged happy as clams that aren’t clammy in the slightest.
“I FINALLY FOUND THE PERFECT FALL LOAFERS, YOU GUYS,” I screamed into a Slack channel at work the following week. Though I had temporarily conceded to the reality that flip flops were probably more suitable to the current state of New York weather, my feet (and brain) remained emotionally tethered to the loafers that are now sitting inside their shoe bags in my closet, waiting for the faintest whiff of an autumnal breeze to make their case for reemergence.