There’s a new, lengthy profile on prolific designer/director Tom Ford for GQ and it serves as a reminder that despite the fact that just about everything he does is nothing short of brilliant, Tom Ford is a pretty insufferable human being. This time around, we learn that Ford takes three to five “daily power baths” every day (so much for conserving water in Los Angeles), that he “absolutely” does not own sweatpants, that he thinks about death literally all day and that he still things every straight man ought to be penetrated (kudos to Taffy Brodesser-Akner, who slyly outs Ford’s opinions and behavior as pretentious garbage without outright disparaging her subject, which would undoubtedly be a big no-no at GQ).
But by far the most troubling tidbit in this gem of a profile is that Ford denies his 4-year-old son, Jack, his beloved light-up dinosaur sneakers.
Ford “lets” Jack choose his own clothes, however, he must choose from a batch of garments pre-approved by his discerning father. These items include Lacoste polos and Stan Smiths – you know, kid stuff. These items do not include Jack’s beloved light-up dinosaur sneakers.
A sore subject in the Ford household: Jack has some light-up dinosaur shoes, and sometimes he tries to wear them to school, and when Ford catches him doing this, he has to step in. “What does Dada say about the dinosaur shoes?” “They’re tacky.” “And when are we allowed to wear them?” “On weekends.” And so the Velcro Stan Smiths go back on Jack’s feet while he looks achingly at his light-ups, counting the days until they can have their brief, private, unphotographed moment in the sun.
As someone who once owned a pair of light-up Power Ranger sneaks, I can attest that nothing brings a child simpler joy than shoes that flash when you walk. We feel your pain, Jack, and we bet your shoes are really cool.