9. Polish One Off   GQ design director Fred Woodward on how to do it yourself better   There was a shoeshine man who used to make the rounds at 745 Fifth Avenue, the building where I worked my first year in New York. He was fond of saying that a true gentleman didn't feel properly dressed unless his shoes were freshly shined every morning. I always liked the sound of thateven if it did feel more than a little selfservingbut after he borrowed 50 from me and countless other soft touches throughout the building, never to be seen again, I decided that shining my own shoes once a week was gentleman enough.   I love the ritual the careful laying out of newspaper, and the round tin of Kiwi polish with the builtin wingnutshaped turnkey openera damned near perfect piece of industrial design. After enough applications, the old Tshirt that I use becomes a work of art in its own right, a poor man's Matisse. And my dad's horsehair brush with the Good Housekeeping Seal branded into its hardwood handle is the very same one he taught me with. First, I brush the shoe well, cleaning it of any dust or dirt. With the rag wrapped tightly around my first two fingers, I apply the polish in small, tight swirls. By the time I'm through applying wax to the second shoe, the first will be dry and ready to brush, and that's all I do.   I have a closet full of nice shoes but wear the same ones practically every daya size 13 cordovan color and leather plaintoe laceup. With this particular shoe, I use a black cream every third or fourth polishing instead of cordovan paste. It makes them the same deep aubergine as a perfectly ripe eggplant. They go with everything I own, and they're as comfortable as a bare foot in sand. I've had them resoled twice already, and I'm told a wellmade, wellcaredfor cordovan will outlast its owner. I aim to find outjust not too soon, I hope.