Some colours make you decide in ten seconds, and this orange is one of them. In strong sun the matte hide goes almost red; in the shade of awnings it settles back to burnt amber. On bare feet it looks like something chosen on purpose, which is more than most sandals manage.
The upper is matte Mississippiensis alligator, scales flat and dry, cut in a straight line along the edges rather than folded under. The vamp carries the pierced H, and the sole sits low at fourteen millimetres, so the whole shoe feels like a flat with a good haircut rather than a built-up trainer.
Sizes run 40 to 46, and the half-size-up note the maker gives for this model is worth taking literally. I ordered true to size once and felt the strap press across the top of the foot by the end of an afternoon; a half size more solved it completely.
What I would flag: a colour this decisive magnifies everything, including the small creases that form where the strap bends. Keep sunscreen and oil away from the hide, and wipe the scales down after a long day, because orange holds a water mark longer than black does.
Worn with white, stone or pale khaki, it is the sort of sandal that finishes an outfit on its own, and it has survived three summers without losing any of its depth. It has also needed nothing beyond a wipe to keep looking new.

































