The playful and irreverent image of Camper can make you forget that what this chain actually sells is comfy - if quirky - shoes. The exact opposite, in fact, of the 6in-heel court shoes being sported by Gwyneth Paltrow, in which the only perambulation possible is a short sashay from limo to premiere.

The popularity this season of such extreme shoes can only boost the appeal of Camper, a family-owned company whose styles are based on the utilitarian footwear of Majorcan farmers: camperol means peasant in Catalan. This is just one of the facts about the business that Camper fans like to share with you - these enthusiasts come mostly from the professional rather than the labouring classes: a pair of ever-so-ergonomic Camper flip-flops costs £25.

The company was founded in 1975 by Lorenzo Fluxa, scion of a shoemaking dynasty, to take advantage of the new informality of the postFranco era. This rebellious spirit remains part of the Camper ideology: the eccentric designs of its 80 stores worldwide are another.

Madcap decor is rarely enough to entice me into any place, but the contrast between the Camper branch in Old Bond Street (one of five in the UK) and its West End surroundings was enough to stop me in my tracks en route to a meeting last Friday morning.

The store stands at the entrance to the street's exuberantly Victorian Royal Arcade. The area's standard-issue designer store is all marble and steel, aimed at producing the correct level of awe for the goods therein. But Camper has chosen neither the heritage nor the high-gloss look: the shoes are displayed on a table fashioned from pallets, and the floorboards are bare.

The walls are covered with distressed printers' proofs which customers are invited to tear down and decorate, although the assistants said that nobody had ever actually done so. It takes nerve, I suppose, just as it takes nerve for me to admit that I liked the shoes, having previously thought them too childlike, too sporty and for kidults only. The bubble-soled, lace-up Peus (£90) and Pelotas (£99), Camper's best-known lines, were still too sensible for my taste, but I could appreciate the wit of the Twins (£70 to £130), where the pattern on one shoe complements that of the other. The jazz shoes (£90) and the Laura wedges (£90) struck a balance between elegance and usefulness.

According to the assistants, the wedge section is both flexible and durable, as it is made of lime wood. Had I been a Majorcan camperol, I would have known whether this was just sales talk. But as I am not, I believed them and bought a pair, calculating that if I wore them three times a week until October, this would work out at £1.40 a time. My expectations on walking speed, comfort, etc, are considerable, however.

THE LINKS IN THE CHAIN

Camper sold 3.5 million pairs of shoes in 2007; total sales were €200 million.

RETAIL IS DETAIL/

Layout: artful and arty simplicity 8/10

Staff: friendly 9/10

Bags: stout eco paper with trendy slogans 7/10

Website: confusing 5/10

Overall score: shoes built for comfort and style 8/10

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