Free How to Archer by Sterling Archer

pocket “frilly shitwad.” That’s because the only fold you should ever use is the square fold—also known as the Presidential—which should extend exactly three-eighths of an inch above, and perfectly parallel to, your breast pocket. Any other fold—the Two-Point, the Dunaway, the Flute, and don’t even get me started on the Puff—is an abomination.
    Note: In addition to your pocket square, always keep a separate clean cotton handkerchief folded in the pocket of your trousers. Because at some point in the evening, through no (or some, or total) fault of your own, your date is probably going to start crying.
    Jewelry: Sure, pick some up on the way home from your gender-reassignment surgery.
ARCHER FUN FACT: NECKWEAR
    Neckties were invented by the Croats during the Thirty Years’ War in the sixteenth century. In fact, the word “cravat” comes from the Croatian word Hrvati, which I thought was a kind of cheese but is apparently what Croats call themselves. I guess because they’re too busy losing wars to learn English.

SHOES
    So, you’re out buying shoes, huh? Neat! Seriously, that’s great; I’m sure you’re pretty excited. But before buying them, take just a brief moment to look around: Are you in Italy?
    If not, stop what you’re fucking doing.
    Because the only place you should ever buy shoes, in the universe and beyond, is Italy. And that’s not even accurate: you shouldn’t even buy shoes. You should have them made. By a cordwainer . And, if possible, that cordwainer should possess the strong yet supple hands of the irascible yet avuncular Signore Antonio Carbone of Casa di Scarpe Carbone, in Firenze. 85
    Because Antonio—which I can, after fourteen years, only just now call him—will bring you into his well-appointed shop just off the Via Tornabuoni and talk with you—over an espresso followed by a grappa or two—about what it is, exactly, that you’re looking for in a shoe: Day or evening? Lace-up or slip-on? Do you foresee driving while wearing the shoe? Dancing? Lovemaking?
    He will listen intently. And perhaps even nod gravely. He will then beckon for you to follow him to the back of the shop, where you will—in addition to being utterly seduced by the buttery aroma of hand-softened cordovan—be measured for a pair of his sublime footwear.
    Each foot will be measured separately, at no fewer than twenty-six points—during which Antonio may even inquire into your dietary habits and/or family medical history. These measurements will be related to Antonio’s positively ancient assistant, who will silently enter them into a well-worn ledger, bound in the softest calfskin and containing the foot measurements of kings, dukes, princes, viscounts, captains and/or titans of industry, and also the world’s greatest secret agent. 86
    Antonio’s assistant will prepare a copia of these measurements, which will then be taken into the basement by one of Antonio’s young nephews, who will use them to create wooden lasts, one for each of your feet, using kiln-dried wood from the very heart of an old-growth Claret Ash.
    As the nephew slips eagerly downstairs to hand-carve your lasts, you will be shown a dizzying array of exquisite leathers, from which you will be asked to choose your upper. When you are asked, you will do Antonio a great kindness—and yourself an even greater favor—if you defer to the judgment of il maestro calzolaio: he knows not only what you want, but also what you need. At this point, more espresso and grappa will be served. And perhaps some biscotti.
    You will then be asked to choose the patina which will grace the impossibly supple leather of your uppers. Don’t be afraid of making a mistake here: not only will Antonio gently nudge you toward the correct choice, he can also—should you ever decide to—change the patina (via a secret process known only to him) using a proprietary blend of plant-and oil-based dyes.
    You will then—after a brief consultation, over more