These are my long-waited-for shoes from Seiji McCarthy – a bespoke version of the full-strap loafer I wear so much, in Color 8 cordovan. 

Now the big question with bespoke shoes (I’ve learnt, particularly with loafers) is what’s the fit like? 

Well, these were comfortable to wear straight away, despite being in a fairly tough material, a traditional welt construction, and fully lined (unlike a lot of RTW loafers these days).

The first day I wore them to the office I thought I’d swap them out at some point, just giving them three or four hours to start the wearing-in process; but they were fine all day. By the time I got home after 10 hours there was a little rubbing on the back of one heel, but that was it. 

Seiji achieved the fit he prefers and that we agreed upon: a loafer you can slip in and out of, but which still stays on the heel when you walk. 

One of the things I’ve learnt painfully over the years is that good fit means different things to different people. To some makers, a loafer should be tighter than this, and require a shoe horn to get into. There’s an argument the foot is held better and won’t move around as much in the shoe, exercising it more and tiring it less.

But I’ve tried that with bespoke loafers, and either it’s too hard to achieve on my foot or just the wrong thing to aim for. Either way, it eventually made those loafers too painful to wear. 

I have to say I was pretty nervous when I received Seiji’s shoes. Even though we’d done two fittings and had a trial shoe, I just wanted the shoes to be good really, really badly. 

This was partly because I wanted to wear them and enjoy them and have them a permanent part of my wardrobe. But also because I just like Seiji so much as a person, and wanted to write well about him and his work. 

Fortunately – with a sense of relief that seems to accompany bespoke almost more than joy these days – the shoes really are great. I’ve been wearing them every second or third day in the three months since I got them, and they’ve proved this more and more. 

You can see below how well they accompany other things I wear so much – black or indigo jeans or flannels, brown or grey knit or jacket, cream or denim shirt or T-shirt.

If there is anything at all to tweak on the fit of the shoes, it’s probably that they’re a tiny bit on the big side. With the thinnest of socks, on a cold day, in the morning, they could with being a little tighter. There’s a small amount of gaping around the top line on the inside of one foot as well, which to his credit annoys Seiji and he would want to tighten. 

But with regular socks, on a warm day, after being on my feet for a while, the fit is perfect. And this is of course the way with loafers – there is no means to alter the fit (unlike a laced shoe) and very little holding the foot (particularly with a low-vamped style).

I’d also much rather have things this way round – a touch large, rather than a touch small. I’ve found (again through painful experience) that it’s less likely to create discomfort. I understand much more why so many guys buy ready-to-wear shoes too big. 

The other advantage is that it’s fairly easy to tweak the fit by putting in a thin sock liner – we might experiment with doing that, adding no more than 1mm either throughout the whole shoe or only at the back.

The look of the shoe is also interesting from this point of view. It looks big on my foot – a little longer and wider than other loafers. 

The impression of width is partly down to the fact that the heel and waist are so much smaller, so sculpted, compared to ready-to-wear. The back of my foot is slim, and a bespoke shoe follows that, making the front look bigger by comparison. 

But the front is also a little big in absolute terms, and I’m realising this is just the amount of room my foot needs, particularly in a loafer. It creates a huge amount of comfort – even with a thick sock, my toes are not uncomfortable. 

In terms of style, this means I might not wear the shoes with slimmer trousers, but then I don’t wear trousers that slim now anyway. As a reader pointed out recently, I used to sometimes wear a 19cm hem, but now my smart trousers are all 20cm and sometimes 21cm (perhaps for a looser summer linen).

The jeans pictured here are 20cm, but look a little slimmer because they lack the crease of a tailored trouser. They’re fine with these loafers, but I wouldn’t go slimmer and might even tend a touch wider. 

The make of the shoes is of course superb – that was not something I had to receive the shoes to know about. They have all the precision and handwork you’d expect from a top-end piece of bespoke. 

I find it particularly pleasing that the strap across the foot doesn’t have a seams on the side, as the Alden version does. And the seamless heel is a lovely touch – the kind of thing only an aficionado would notice, or at least notice what was missing. 

In a nice touch, Seiji also always has a small hole on the top of the heel cup (below). This is where a nail is used to attach the upper when the shoe is being lasted. It’s not necessary to last the shoe this way, but it’s a little sign, a little reminder of the traditional handwork used to make the shoe, and so Seiji keeps it as a design point.

Perhaps a last word on that sidepoint I made earlier – that new bespoke pieces tend to bring me relief rather than joy. 

This does not mean that I don’t get joy out of bespoke clothes. They bring immense joy and satisfaction, as well of course looking damn good.

It’s just that I know that joy will come over time, over the dozens and dozens of times the shoes are worn, watching how they wear in, seeing how they gain character by the time they’re resoled, feeling how much I get used to a better fit and style, to the point anything else becomes absurdly bad. The joy is less immediate than with ready-to-wear, which is often acquired instantly and carried home in tissue paper. 

My bespoke also tends towards safe and conservative, rather than exciting or unusual. Like these loafers in fact, which merely replace a shoe I’ve worn for a long time and love, with a better version of that same thing. That’s never going to be instantly exciting. 

And bespoke does involve some risk – when it’s from a new maker. This is why people shouldn’t do as I do, and patronise many different ones. I do it so I can advise readers on them, those with different styles and price points and locations, and I’m very fortunate to be able to do so. Incredibly fortunate. 

But if I was a private citizen, I would only have one shoemaker, two at the most (purely for different styles) and there would be very little risk in my next purchase from Seiji – which would likely be something equally safe but in the long term satisfying, like an identical black loafer. 

I hope that makes sense. Perhaps I don’t say it often enough. Either way, I would highly recommend Seiji based on my experience, which is an immense relief. He is such a lovely man.

The biggest issue with Seiji today is supply, as he’s found it hard to keep up with demand, particularly with staff moving around and things like the last factory in Japan closing down. Currently he is taking on no new bespoke customers – only MTO/MTM. 

New orders from existing customers are fine, and MTO/MTM is available for all styles of shoe – a meeting in person is just required to establish suitability if the style is a loafer. There is also a waiting list for bespoke, so measurements etc can be taken, and as soon as a slot opens up, work can begin on them. MTO is a ready-made shoe, so no alterations for fit; MTM makes small changes to the last possible. These loafers were bespoke. 

Seiji McCarthy bespoke starts at JPY580k. These loafers were JPY680k being in cordovan. MTO/MTM starts from JPY 320k (lasted shoe trees sold separately). MTM is the MTO base price plus an additional JPY 6k per adjusted area on the last.

Seiji does trunk shows in New York and San Francisco every 18 months; the next visit is autumn 2026. Prices at trunk shows are 20% higher.