Friday, November 13, 2026
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When a guy is the CEO of the (formerly) most valuable company in history, you expect the symbol of hubris to be, I dunno, a supercar or a yacht. Not in Jensen Huang’s case. Take it from Esquire’s Scott Raab, a former shoe salesman: It was all right there in a couple of size 9’s. —Kevin Dupzyk, features director
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I like men’s shoes and I’ve sold men’s shoes. A man’s footwear reveals facets of his public persona—and his private desires.
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I spent much of Thursday staring at photographs of Jensen Huang’s shoes arranged in one soldierly line longer in both directions than the frame could hold. These dozen pairs—each different, all dazzling—were but a glimpse of his footwear armies. Jensen’s Hermès slip-ons and dozens of black leather jackets are not only his fashion signatures; they’re also proof of his decision to not waste precious energy deciding what clothes to wear each morning.
This is a philosophy I share with Jensen, and my version saves even more time and energy: Don’t change clothes. But I like men’s shoes, I’ve sold men’s shoes, and I believe that a man’s shoes reveal facets of his public persona and private desires. In Jensen’s case, there’s no mystery.
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Sure, some elections touched upon the second-worst idea in American politics. But we have to take the wins when we can.
For example: Montana, a state whose politics never cease to amaze me. It voted for Bill Clinton twice but has gone red ever since. It had a long and proud tradition of campaign-finance legislation until Citizens United turned the table. Like all timber and mining states, Montana has a long—and fairly unique—history of labor activity. Butte became known as the “Gibraltar of Unionism.” In 1914, two factions of the powerful Western Federation of Miners went to war with each other. (The dissidents blew up the union hall in Butte.) The recent election shifted things around within that state tradition.
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Tommy Lee Jones, 80, an Oscar winner and a star of the second season of The Lowdown, the noirish Tulsa crime story undercut with terrific dime-store waggery, sits flat-footed in the green room at Good Morning America, in downtown Manhattan. He has just done an on-camera interview with Ethan Hawke, who stars as the show’s protagonist. In the next dressing room are many adorable, pawing puppies being primped for a segment on National Adopt-a-Dog Month. Jones is adorable too, in his avuncular way, his face an old-dog scowl that softens when you ask the right question, as if you’d scratched him in the right spot.
On The Lowdown, he plays Hawke’s estranged father, a crusty old bastard who holds secrets. There’s a bad history between them, and Hawke’s character, an impulsive, truth-seeking investigative journalist, at first wants nothing to do with his dad, but that situation evolves. They’re both named Lee Raybon. Jones wears a glen-plaid sport coat, a blue dress shirt, and comfortable sneakers. When the interview begins, he looks at you, ready but giving nothing until he’s asked to.
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