Passion, not need, fuels sales of $690 'driving shoes'

As he prepares himself for Monday's pilgrimage to the Chicago Auto Show, Hugh E. Ruthven II of Barrington doesn't break out the driving duds he owns and sells for a living.

His specially handcrafted leather $690 "driving shoes" don't need to make the trip. Those sleek $275 "driving gloves" as soft as butter give way to a warmer, more practical, cheaper pair. And those vintage $1,500 racing helmets with the rich leather, subtle resin or high-gloss finish; well, they don't even make it onto the racetrack (even with the optional $460 visor), let alone the Kennedy.

Until I met Ruthven, I didn't know there was such a thing as "driving shoes," ("They aren't for walking," Ruthven advises) let alone that people need them.

"You don't <I>need</I> them," Ruthven counters, explaining that the inventory of high-end auto accessories he sells online at his online business called The Finish Line are designed for folks who <I>want</I> them and have money to spend on perks such as driving shoes. "You don't <I>need</I> any of these things."

When he drives to the grocery in his 2008 Dodge Caravan, Ruthven, 67, wears basic Top-Siders on his feet and lets his hands go naked. But sometimes, when he backs his red 1958 Ferrari 250 out of his garage for a joy ride or a long trip to a vintage car rally, he slips on his driving gloves and his driving shoes.

"It's form and function," Ruthven says. The stuff looks cool, but it also works the way it was designed.

The driving shoes are comfy, lightweight, have a tread that grabs the gas or brake pedal and taper to fit a vintage race car with its "tight pedal box," Ruthven says, Try to drive one of those cars wearing a pair of Crocs and you might clip the brake on your way to the accelerator.

"Some people look at it and think it's a bowling shoe," Ruthven says of the colorful shoes made by Chapal, a French company that has been hand-crafting fine leather and fur goods since 1832 and made leather flying jackets for the United States during both World Wars. Some of the driving gloves Ruthven sells are made by Dents, a British company started in 1777. They make Ruthven's 1958 Ferrari seem positively modern.

"I've always had an interest in automobiles, all kinds," says Ruthven, who grew up in the Detroit suburb of Grosse Pointe and use to work in the auto industry. "My first car was a '41 Ford two-door sedan. It was a great car, under 100,000 miles and in good running condition. You didn't have the money to buy a new car, even though a new car was only $2,000. You could buy a good car for $500 or even $100."

Ruthven says the point of a car is to get from point A to point B, and his old Ford did that. "It was a very practical car," Ruthven says.

While his old Ford ("It was a sled") doesn't have the style of his Ferrari, Ruthven says he appreciates all cars - from the Model A to the concept cars at the Chicago Auto Show.

"The new cars are great," Ruthven says, listing the safety and comfort features old cars don't have. "There probably isn't a bad car out there these days."

But he says he has a "passion" for older sports cars with "style" and "character," such as his Ferrari with the hand-hammered aluminum body or his 1959 Bandini Formula Junior race car, one of six in the world.

"I'm not a race car driver, I'm a guy who drives a race car," says Ruthven, who has won a few vintage races.

In addition to the gloves, shoes and helmets, Ruthven sells old luggage, racing posters, lithographs, paintings, drawings, autographs of champion drivers and even scale models of vintage sports cars. The worst of the recession hampered sales for luxury items in 2008 and 2009, but people still indulge their automotive desires, says Ruthven, who just returned from the Retromobile show in Paris.

The reasons people buy a $27.99 Ferrari gearshift key chain, shell out $660 for 1952 Ferrari poster signed by Jose Froilan Gonzalez or pay a record $16.4 million for a 1957 Ferrari Testa Rossa are all the same.

"It's automotive art. You buy it for the same reason you buy any other type of art," Ruthven concludes. "You buy it because you like it."