Category Archives: Shoes

Shoes

Shoe Spotting In Edinburgh

Leave a comment

It had been a while since I had last been to Scotland. My only visit was a family trip to the Isle of Aaron over a decade ago. It was beautiful up there. I think that was also the first time I saw a Morrisons.

Edinburgh had been on my list for quite some time, a place I knew little of save for a few passing conversations. My family had recently been up with my auntie and cousin from Peru, shouting its praises thanks to set of beautiful buildings and ‘quirky’ coffee coasters my mum had brought back. The latter of which I must confess to have been enjoying these past few months.

Knowing that most of the UK would be covered in rainfall on my birthday, I bit the bullet and yolo-ed it up to Edinburgh. The pigeons at Manchester Piccadilly seemed increasingly interested in my Song For The Mute x adidas Superstars, fooling the avian creatures with the toast-inspired colourway. I felt bad. I also felt like the pigeon lady from Home Alone 2 (she was kind of a baddie in her own recluse way).

Her rizz has never been matched since

Three hours later and I was in sunny Edinburgh. It really is amazing how small the UK is, a detail easily forgotten thanks to the stagnant wages and Political narratives. We are in far more connected than we know. Namaste.

Walking into the old town, a gentleman playing the bagpipes instantly struck a nerve. A feeling of loss and a deep sense of belonging suddenly passed over me. In those few seconds, I understood why millions of men had died fighting for this country, a feeling that even the sweet taste of Irn Bru had previously failed to conjure.

After dropping off my items at the hostel, I went for a wander. My sense of random exploration had been stronger than ever after my trip to Italy (story soon come), so traversing the cobbled steps of the city seemed all too familiar.

I stumbled across an interesting book shop where I skimmed a book detailing the local history of Yorkshire. I came across the word “cordwainers”, a word I had only recently discovered a few days before thanks to the @worshipfulcordwainers account. A Cordwainer is a particular type of shoemaker who exclusively makes shoes from cordovan leather, which comes from Cordova.

Another book featured this footprint-based prank, leaving beachgoers in Portugal scratching their heads. I am always down for footwear-based humour.

All this exploration had stirred up a sense of hunger, so I found a five-star rated Pizza van around the corner and parked myself on a patch of grass in The Meadows. I also took some snaps of my aforementioned Superstars here, a sign the trip was going well.

Song For The Mute x adidas Superstar Brown colourway photographed on the grass

A quick shower later and I found a last-minute jazz night going on around the corner. A kind Korean lady called Lucy let me take a seat next to her where we spoke about London. We didn’t manage to speak about shoes. Her partner eventually arrived and we spoke about bachata lessons. I wonder what the best shoes to salsa in are. I once wrote an article about breakdancing shoes, but I have never considered salsa footwear. I bet it’s red and sparkly, like the Latino version of Dorothy’s slippers. I could fuck with that, minus the gingham dress. I would be down for gingham socks though. In fact, you could sign me up for a couple of pairs right now.

Five Piece Jazz playing in Edinburgh at the The Jazz Bar venue

I ended up staying until the jazz finished. My favourite track they covered was Lament by J.J Johnson. I didn’t see what the five piece had on feet. I imagine their taste in footwear was jazzy (insert crazy tongue out emoji here).

I woke up the next day in my pod-based cabin feeling a year older (literally and figuratively). I headed out hoping to come across some abandoned shoes. FYI nowhere in Edinburgh do birthday discounts btw. A real shame. After a fry-up up I found myself passing through the National Galleries of Scotland. I quickly realised I didn’t fancy spending my day of birth taking in too much history so the visit was swift (hold the Taylor).

It was here that I came across Anne Redpath’s The Indian Rug (or Red Slippers). This was the only footwear-based painting I spotted. Those slippers would make great salsa dancing shoes.

Anne Redpath's The Indian Rug (or Red Slippers) which I spotted at The National Galleries in Edinburgh

Stepping out the gallery I felt an overwhelming sense of tiredness as I recalled how exhausted I was post my trip to Italy. Copious amounts of espresso and history was a beautifully powerful combination. Yet not one I was looking to repeat on this rainy day.

I then wandered into a retro football shirt shop (lads, lads, lads) and spotted a beautiful Paraguayan Puma shirt from the ‘90s. Had it not been for the £80 price tag, you might have caught me knee sliding up and down the Northern Quarter. Opting for another favourite of mine in the Anelka butterfly celebration would be undoubtedly more practical for the concrete terrain around NQ.

I did spot this cool adidas print advert in an old footy programme. Stern looks, slicked back wigs and leather boots – reckon these two could have really pioneered the #bootsonlysummer movement had they been born in this day and age. Although they would have likely veered towards splitting the G rather than monetising their social media following. As UK artist Headie One had previously voiced, these guys certainly could have been “doing up both”.

hotel slippers discarded on the streets of Edinburgh

Soon after, I finally came across my first pair of ‘abandoned shoes’ in the form of some hotel slippers. Now, unlike a lot of discarded footwear, the client base for hotel slippers is stereotypically a more refined one. Unlikely to be a resident crack head, the slippers would soon come into the possession of one of Edinburgh’s finest tweakers. Appearing to be doing an impression of a pavement-proficient Hugh Hefner, said crackhead would then only be missing a pipe and expensive silk robe to complete the look.

My footsteps then took me into a local Clarks where I managed to stop myself from purchasing a dark green pair of Wallabees. Instead, and as a wonderful testament to my ageing feet, I purchased a pair of supportive insoles. I hadn’t purchased any in donkey’s years, somewhat hesitant of their claims to foot health. I was and still am a believer in building strong feet.

In that moment, the feeling of a new set insoles was more sensible than buying some new £200 leather hiking boots, although that small Italian flag tab poking out from the ankle collar would look real ace right about now. The gentleman also gave me the lowdown on why each hiking boot catered to different people. Also, did you know that it costs about two hundred thousand dollars to climb Mount Everest! Who knew.

Old Pattern for kids Double Knitted jumper
Pre this kid absolutely dripped out to the nines!

A few hours of wandering later and I was in the quaint streets of Stockbridge. The many charity shops had me feeling like a 2022 version of myself, scouring the bookshelves for any fun shoe-based prints and information. A £4 copy of The Design Museum’s Designing the Beautiful Game tickled my fancy, but I managed to refrain. Clearly I had grown wise in my old age. Slay?

The Complete Guide To Stretching by Christopher M. Norris found in a charity shop in Stockbridge Edinburgh

I then came across The Complete Guide To Stretching with the lady on the cover mid-pose. Rocking a pair of what I originally suspected were Air Span IIs, a little search revealed she was in fact wearing a pair of Air Icarus in the “Grape” make-up.

Photo of Michael Ochs posing in a record shop wearing a pair of Nike shoes from the 90s

Interestingly enough, I came across a similar pair minutes later skimming through this 1000 Album Covers book with the curator Michael Och laced up in a black and olive version of the Air Icarus. Paired with the a light acid wash denim, his fit was typically ‘90s. Definitely a look you could have found me in during my time as a stocky in Manny. Maybe minus the black leather jacket and spectacles. His hair was hair-ing as the youth say!

I also spotted an album cover from the Red Hot Chilli Peppers Abbey Road EP that I hadn’t seen before. Apart from the fact that they are obviously naked, the band member at the front, who looks to be lead guitarist John Frusciante has got on a pair of New Balances. Now in the hall of famous New Balance adorned photos, it is no surprise that this album cover image doesn’t feature. From what I can make out, it looks like a pair of New Balance 475s from the angle of his front foot. Given the size of the “N” logo and heel cradle at the rear. However, they could just as easily be a pair of NB 576s or 574s.

Another fun find was this fashion book solely focused on Madonna. We forget how much of a style icon she was back in her heyday. Knowing she frequently features on the Instagram account @trainer.spotting, I knew flicking through the book would guarantee finding a heavy set of webs.

Shots of Madonna from the early 2000s wearing streetwear as well as the Nike Air Max Craze and Nike Air Rift

This proved true as a photo collage revealed Madonna wearing white and black Nike Air Rifts, as well as the recently retro-ed Nike Air Max Craze. Having said that, I don’t think the triple white colourway has dropped in 2025 just yet.

Also look at this cool drawing of these blue Tassel Loafers.

It was on the evening of my birthday that I finally came across a solid abandoned footwear find. Similar to the many cases I found in Napoli, this pair of Footjoy Golf shoes were parked up next to a bin. Annoyingly I noticed these during my birthday ice cream so grabbing the shot provided more difficult than usual as I balanced my double scoop in the other hand. I will say that the Kiwi sorbet tasted a whole lot more fulfilling after that find.

Discarded pair of Footjoy golf shoes on the streets of Edinburgh

Later on during my evening stroll I noticed a number of shoe plant pots. This person clearly had an affinity for both plants and recycling as their porch was decked out with a whole slew of them #sustainablequeen/king. My favourite of the bunch was obviously the adidas Rekords in the corner. Long had I thought about using my old sneakers as plant pots, so seeing this played out my ideas into reality (this idea was pre sneaker plants fyi). You will soon be able to purchase a similar style of shoe pots from my Etsy account (big things soon come).

shoes and clogs used as plant pots on someones front porch at a house in Edinburgh

I would have loved to speak to the owner of the house, but knocking on their door at near-midnight would not have faired well in terms of a friendly interaction. Now I think about it I could have posted a slip through the door asking them to send me a reply via email but I think that would constitute as ‘doing too much’, or perhaps harassment… it’s a fine line.

adidas Rekord in white and black used as a plant pot

The next day provided less footwear-based thrills. This was mainly due to the fact that I was relatively pooped by that point. A quick tram journey down Leith walk informed me of this oddly named tram stop. Bar that the Sunday was quiet.

Shivering my way back to Manchester thanks to a heavily air-conditioned train cabin made the journey all the longer. Planting my tooties back in Manny, I realised how vibrant Cottonopolis actually was. This could have been due to Park Life taking place up the road, so the amount of Nike Miller Ts and Under Armour shorts were out doing the rounds.

As the double espresso now begins to wear out, I will say that I would love to return to Scotland again. Next time I’ll put a heavier focus on highland cows, regardless of the fact that they don’t wear shoes.

Poetry, Shoes

Shoes Poems 007: velcro shoes

Leave a comment 
Do you feel complete?
What do you mean?
Complete.
Huh?
Finished.
No I wouldn't say so. Do you?
I don't think so.
How can you tell?
That's a good point.
We're not even thirty.
Are people complete at thirty?
I don't think so. People have meltdowns at thirty.
People are always having meltdowns.
Not like the ones you get at thirty.
How would you know? You're 24.
I've seen them. On the train, the supermarkets, you can see it in their eyes.
So now you're a meltdown expert?
No. It's just obvious.
Look at that man over there.
Which one?
The guy with the denim hat. Does he look happy to you?
Sure. Yeah he does.
Look closer.
I don't want to get up though.
Not like that silly, with your eyes. Really look.
Hmm he's wearing velcro shoes.
And?
And that means he's a man child.
No.
Okay what does it mean then Mr meltdown. 
It means he's in pain.
Righhhht. And how did you come to that conclusion?
Well, no one loved him enough to tell him how to tie his shoes when he was younger.
Because he has velcro shoes?
Yeh, and when he puts on his shoes he is instantly reminded of his childhood loneliness.
I think you're reaching.
I don't think I am. Does anyone you know own velcro shoes in your life?
Not that I can think of. Oh wait, my grandpa used to have velcro shoes.
Well there you go. 
What do you mean, there you go? He had arthritis.
So he was in pain.
I mean I guess.
And therefore he was unhappy.
No. He was unhappy at times because he missed my grandma.
Either way. He was in pain and he wore velcro shoes.
There is no correlation.
That's what he wanted you to think.
Right, so all kids wearing velcro shoes are unhappy too are they?
Yep.
Now you are lost. They just haven't learnt yet.
Learnt what?
Learned how to tie their own shoes.
Because?
Because they're too young.
You can never be too young to tie your shoes.
Says who?
Einstein.
Now I know you're lying.
He learnt to tie his shoes at two months old.
So he was baby wearing shoe laces. Lies. 
No lies here m'dear.
Everyone knows Einstein was chronically sad though.
I didn't.
Well now you do Mr Velcro shoes.
I would never have been able to tell with his tied shoes.
Great.
More to the point. Where are your laces?
I don't want to talk about it.
Shoes

Shoe Spotting In Manchester

Leave a comment

I headed up on the Friday afternoon in a pair of New Balance 996. An apt choice considering I’d be walking down memory lane in both senses of the term. There is likely a street called “Memory Lane” in Manchester. That said, I did not see it.

NB 996s laced up, a shoe considered the connoisseurs’ choice within the community, I made my way up to the red brick city. It was a while until I came across my first pair of abandoned shoes.

After celebrating my mate’s 30th birthday, Sunday was somewhat of a struggle. Breaking out of the hangover slump, I trekked over to Victoria Baths where the kilo sale was. On the route I came across these youth-sized Nikes. Whether they were actually discarded or not I am unsure. Sat suspiciously close to a set of bins, it was also safe to assume the owner was ready to part ways.

I eventually made it to the kilo sale fair. Disappointing. No stripey jumpers. At least no really cool ones. It was, however nice to be back within the old bathing halls. I soon left and an hour later scoured the bookshelves of a charity shop. Picking out a book dedicated to fixed pedal riders, I spotted a wonderful ode to a pair of beaten up ASICS. Its outsole had been smeared through months of functioning as an impromptu break. Look at the trainers of fixed gear enthusiasts and they will likely tell the same story.

Picking up a case study guide to the Bend It Like Beckham movie, I hoped to find more behind-the-scenes photos of the film. Predators, adidas Superstars – often highlighted by IG mood board accounts, the book could deliver on never-before-seen images. Alas, the book left much to be desired. Snapping up a photo of a young Kira Knightly sporting Predator boots was the best the book had to offer, leaving it tucked between a collection of old ‘80s Rock magazines once more.

Walking around the centre, I had spotted a seriously quirky set of door handles to a hotel. Silver Boots for door handles could just be the first addition to my future house. I am relatively certain my future wife would approve, let alone allow such a feature on our front door. I’ll have to settle on them being used for the lounge, or failing that a cupboard full of shoes. I think the idea sounds a lot better as just that, an idea.

I think the main concern would be finding a wife first. Maybe I’ll endorse the silver boots as a fallback plan. A symbol of self-defeat. A sign that I have signed up to the idea of life as a single man for the remainder or my days on earth. They were kind of hideous in hindsight. But cool too! Hideously cool? Anyway enough about myself…

Picking up a copy of the Nike x Phaidon Look Good, Feel Good, Play Good in Unitom was how I found out that a fellow stockroom alumni was a published photographer. Featuring in one of his books that detailed a number of Japanese of women captured via polaroid. Among the scantily clad ladies I spotted an interesting photo of a pair of OG Neon 95s. As an actual icon of footwear design, the 110 has been shot countless times. Yet this was the first time I had spotted the shoe paired with a pink vibrator. I suppose it goes back to the old saying – if it can exist, it probably does.

On the walk back from town, it suddenly hit me how much rubbish was dotted about the streets of south Manchester. I’m unsure if I had become conditioned to it during my time living in the city, but during this visit I could not help but notice it everywhere. This did work to my advantage, providing me with two more pairs of abandoned shoes to bring up a total of three during my long Sunday walk.

Making my way to the area of Ancoats I noticed a pair of black and white Adilette’s hiding in a bramble bush. How or why they were there is anyone’s guess. Being a fan of the Atlanta-based legend Future, my mind instantly drifted back to a classic post in The Basement post where a girl burnt her boyfriend’s Gucci Flip Flops.

Granted this version isn’t as cool, but throwing away your ex-lover’s Adilettes is a power move. Think of the amount of time he spent in them in his flat aka his safe space, to then brutally designate them to a life in a lonely Ancoats bramble bush. God giveth and God taketh away. Revenge is a dish best served cold as they say. Oh, he cheated on her in this hypothetical example if that wasn’t already clear.

As I was trying to get a clear photo, a wonderful example of the hip Ancoats couple walked past. Hearing one of them chuckle at what was likely me photographing a littered bush, I couldn’t help but wish them a similar fate. I hope he doesn’t get too comfortable with his flip flops. I am acutely aware that I was playing out another cliché of the Ancoats creative don’t worry. Although I question how many of those said creatives have stopped to admire this bush (pause).

Further on, I identified some black boots strewn away by a set of typically red brick flats. Being on the other side of a black metal fence and just having walked past two questionable characters, I did not dedicate much effort trying to pap them. Conscious that I was giving off ‘fed behaviour’ by photographing a possible trap house or worse, a murder site, I swiftly moved on.

The following day I headed away from the city centre and into the suburbs of Didsbury. Spending a large portion of time in The Art Of Tea book shop, I came away with a great set of images.

Mostly from a Women’s Bodybuilding book from the ‘70s, the pages full of images of Laura Combes training. Now while her physique was a testament to her relentless work at the church of iron, that was not the focal point of my interest. Laced up on her feet was what looked like a New Balance 730, a shoe I had recently purchased myself.

Worn by Andy Warhol, it is a testament to the NB 730s utilitarian design, favoured by the athlete and artist. One thing about ‘tennis shoes’ during that era was that wearing them outside the realm of sport was a new concept. Seldom had they been comfortable or cool enough, since the ‘60s saw the introduction of the Chuck and finally a move away from the minimal design of the Plimsole. Seeing real use cases such as on the feet of Bodybuilding icon Laura Combes is exactly what I live for. It is another reason why accounts such as @Trainerspotting has blown up over the years. Granted, the account often focuses on celebrities, but people still love seeing the shoes worn in real-life contexts. In the ’60s and ‘70s people bought these new models because they thought one thing, ‘those look cool’.

There are only two photos which feature Combes wearing another shoe in this bodybuilding guide, the Nike Wimbledons or Court edition (Blazer perhaps). A fat retro Swoosh across the sidewall, a toe tip and bar laces scream out the ‘70s. Not to mention the shot of her getting in some behind-the-head lat pulldowns, just more proof that her upper back would have been uncontestably shredded under the lights.

That sporting or bodily health section provided ample insights into the world of women’s fitness during that 70s and 80s era. Books that would have been swept up by Sporty & Rich founder Emily Oberg had she been the one digging. I grabbed a photo of this lady focusing on her calf raises, yet the shoe brand evades me – likely a domestic company that had a solid share of the fitness market but has since been liquidated.

In another fashion section I picked up a gentleman’s fashion book from the ‘90s. An era which had men becoming increasingly aware of what clothes to wear. One image stood out from a mile away, showcasing a then-newly released Air Max 97 “Silver Bullets”.

Under the acceptable “Casual Friday” fit, the book reads “If the boss lopes around in Nikes, you probably can too, if not, go with brown leather. If you’re the boss, wear what you damn please.” Ahhh the era of strict office attire, one I fortunately have no experience in. If you catch me sitting at a cubicle under some cold light from 9-5, you have permission to “shake me out of it” using whatever method required (bar the use of murder or dismemberment). For now, I’ll stick to writing about shoes.

Currently I sit on the train home. Sun flickering across my face as I write this. It is 17:00 and the sun is setting, life is alright.

Poetry, Shoes

Shoe Poems 006: Everywhere

Leave a comment 
Everywhere you look, shoes are left to their demise. A universal sign of emptiness. Sat in a shop window. Sat by the front door. A pair to pop the to shops in. Knock about the house in. Take the bins out in. Kicked off in the heat of the moment. Dangling from a tree. A rite of a passage. Waiting for repair. Caught in a mosh pit. An impatient child. Lost by someone equally as lost. An angry ex. Too far gone. Too soggy for indoors. A drunken night out. A prank gone wrong. Unwanted waste. All without an owner. Unfinished stories. Open endings strewn across the floor.
Shoes

Visiting Peruvian Footwear Markets in Trujillo

Leave a comment

I stop in Trujillo every time I touchdown in the country. Luckily for me, the City of Trujillo is known as the capital of footwear in Peru. Now, added to that list of places to visit is the footwear district of El Porvenir, which I visited for the first time during my 2024 trip.

Shoe lace cart outside of El Provina footwear district in Trujillo
An old man carting a selection of shoe laces was what first greeted us as we approached the outside of the district. 2 sets for 5 Solles which in hindsight was a rip off but hey hoe.

Heading from the hotel, we were told to keep our guard up when walking around the manufacturing district in EL Porvenir. This is due to many thieves and armed criminals in the area, a situation which only worsened because of the economic drought the province suffered during Covid. Interestingly enough, on one of our rides back from the footwear district, the taxi driver informed us that there was a daylight shooting in one of the fanciest areas of Trujillo, proving you can never be too careful. Luckily for us, our ventures to the district were all glowingly positive.

From craftsmen who had worked in the district for over thirty years to ladies who sold footwear components in bulk, you could find each stage of the process. Large sheets of leather all rolled up next to one another would eventually become the uppers of smart shoes worn by the older Peruvian man, a model that seemed to forgo the typical decadence of the European Brogue.

Leather in swathes available at the Peruvian footwear district
swathes of leather held together at the Peruvian footwear district

An elderly lady sorting bundles of loose laces stands under a selection of tongue labels from all the most popular brands. She had likely been surrounded by footwear long before I was born, a humbling thought for any shoe dog out there. That said, I don’t think she was lost in thought over any pending eBay bids or going through her mental checklist of ‘grails’, that sort of thing did not hold weight around her stall.

Old Peruvian lady in footwear market with footwear tongue labels in rolls above her head
Peruvian Lady working her stall at El Provinar Trujillo

Much of the equipment allowed for repairs or alterations such as the pair of knockoff “AAICS” shoes that were being widened for a customer, as the average Peruvian tends to have a wider foot. Here the machine would introduce a wider metal last to slowly stretch the forefoot portion of the upper and create extra room in the toebox. This was a natural part of the process with no sight of #sustainability posters stuck to the walls. Getting the most out of your resources was just simple logic.

white and grey aacis shoe on green metal footwear stretcher
The pair of knock-off ASICS that were midway through the ‘widening’ process

Laces, dubraes and buckles were also available by the bulk load, each vendor willing to bargain with you depending on the size of your order. My Mum picked up 10 sets of flat laces to go with her favourite New Balances, this only set her back 20 Solles or £4.

rope lace selection at Trujillo Peru footwear district that would overwhelm any sneakerhead

I on the other hand managed to pick up a small bundle of Nike lace dubraes for less than 50p, a harrowing reminder of how much brands truly overcharge for footwear in the UK. Sure shipping and marketing costs add to the overall retail price tag, however sneakerheads who are easily blown away by extra detailing and packaging would be surprised at the pence per unit difference that these manufacturing costs would actually make. Two extra sets of laces are always an appreciated touch, costing the brand perhaps 10p in addition but a detail that during the video review stage could help tip customers over the edge.

nike jordan prada and adidas sneaker dubrae for sale at peruvian footwear markets
assortment of dubrae bundles to jazz up your laces with

For a minute I thought about going full fugazi on my recently purchased Nike PS8s by adding an extravagant Lacoste or Barbie dubrae but refrained, opting for a simple set of Nike ones instead.

triple black air force 1 midsole units from factory
Pair of knock-off Air Force 1s in “Triple Black” – if you buy these there is a high likelihood that they will manifest crud into your life.

Midsoles were available by the bulk, including the Predator or Air Force 1 option shown in-hand. Did I want a set of murdered-out AF1 midsoles to take back to the UK? Yes, of course I did. Although that would have been a completely unnecessary purchase, not even bothering to ask what the cost price was.

peruvain footwear market vendor cutting excess rubber from outsole on shoe

I approached a gentleman cutting off the excess outsole with a sharp blade, all the while making sure not to capture his face in the photo so as to respect his privacy. This did not sit well with him as he wanted his moment in the spotlight, a form of recognition for surely was a line of work he had spent decades in.

experienced peruvian footwear workers making formal footwear for men
Cobbler manning the welt stitching machine

Another man around the corner was operating what he told me was a welt stitching machine that had been running since the ‘80s. Punching a needle between the leather midsole and upper, he continued to produce a set of light tan work shoes that would find their way onto the feet of the businessmen of Trujillo.

brown formal footwear uppers ready to be machine stitched onto sole unit in peruvain footwear market

I had only seen this level of workmanship in YouTube videos or briefly caught the process at my local Thimpsons. Seeing it at the heart of the manufacturing district of El Provinar was a different feeling altogether. A behind-the-scenes look at the creation process of the shoe, an object that continues to captivate my everyday life.

Often romanticised by the industry via New Balance Made in UK campaigns of adidas’ Made in Germany editions, there was just as much experience and knowledge held within the hands of those who worked at El Porvenir. Of course, without the marketing budget and expensive film crew, these stories will continue to go unheard.

One of the many side entrances of the Footwear District in Trujillo, Peru

My second visit to the district was a few weeks later. I would return hoping to find an elderly lady called Rosa who was the only person able to make a Last for me. The other vendors would all point towards the direction of her shop, each wild goose chase leaving me empty-handed.

“She should be here in the next hour”

“Oh Rosa starts after lunchtime”

“She only works weekends now”

These were the various replies we were told by those who worked there, all of which repeatedly led towards Rosa’s blue shop shutters. While the area was full of skilled workers, she was the only person left who was able to make a custom wooden last. The plastic lasts were widely available for purchase but I only had my eyes set on the traditional wooden ones.

Midsole shop in Trujillo Peru that sold anything from Predator to Air Force 1 units
This vendor was a one-stop-shop for anything midsoles

They would make me feel like a man from the 19th century who had just carted in from the countryside into the bustling city. Wearing a waistcoat and top hat, I would stroll into the cobblers ready to collect my new leather shoes for a friend’s wedding so I could look the part. Yet in reality, I would get the train to Slough where I would turn up in my second-hand Balley Loafers which might be made in France but are also in dire need of re-welting (a tangent but a necessary one).

While you can get a wooden Last made in England, these will run you back an eye-watering amount. For example, John Lobb is a centuries-old bootmaker shop in London that provides this service. This age-old reputation does come with a high price tag, so unless you have a budget of £5000, you can put those dreams on pause.

I am sure the shop gains custom for many a wealthy banker and financial director, but my shoe-writing budget has a way to go before it can stretch that far. I am not complaining though, as each cobbler spends on average 2-4 days per shoe, with the more skilled ones creating up to 5 shoes per week. Calculating the manhours behind each pair and the rarity of those skills in today’s world, the price is sadly justified.

In one last attempt, I stumbled across one of the older-looking shops. A stack of wooden Lasts across his shelves gave me a slither of hope, an episode of Top Cat playing from his old box Television.

wooden footwear lasts stacked on shelf in a peruvain footwear market
The shop with the wooden Lasts for sale

“Ahh no sorry, I don’t make them. You can purchase one of these though, I’ve got a size 8 you can buy”, Close but no cigar. They also weighed a tonne and space in my return luggage was getting smaller by the day.

I left the district with no wooden Last. That is not to say the time was wasted, as each minute witnessing the manufacturing process was time well spent. It is hard to tell if I would return to the district during future trips, with the mysterious character of Rosa all but lost to the magic of El Provinar (I wouldn’t even know how much she would have charged me either as a UK12 is almost unheard of within that space). Perhaps they will tell her Bigfoot was looking for her, although I would be surprised if I had done enough to earn that reputation.

brown leather fisherman sandals with a large brick background as backdrop
A pair of Fisherman Sandals I managed to grab in Trujillo called “Palermo”

If you are in Trujillo and love shoes, then I would say it is worth visiting El Provinar provided you are not going alone. Also, do not take your phone out too much and hide valuable items like your watch or chain. Otherwise, enjoy the behind-the-scenes process and maybe pick up some laces or lace dubraes while there!

Shoes

Shoe Thoughts: Why Mom & Pop Sneaker Shops Failed

1 Comment

I was listening to Quentin Tarantino talk about video stores the other day. He is not exactly a well-renowned sneakerhead, yet his thoughts about the decline of Mom & Pop video stores had me thinking about the ‘90s sneaker market.

We had the Air Jordan 1 High OG “Lost & Found” drop in 2022, a shoe inspired by the unsold Jordan 1 “Chicago” stock of the ‘90s. Back then the silhouette would hit the sale racks at even $20-40 and still not sell. Thus you would find pairs aging away in the basement stockrooms of Mom & Pop stores out in the US. Mom & Pop stores are just the UK equivalent of independent businesses, an idea that in this day has disappeared off this high street with many saying “support your local”.

Three different '85 and '94 editions of the Air Jordan 1 "Chicago" in a display box at the Sneakers Unboxed 2021 Exhibition at the London Design Museum

Anyway, Tarantino was reminiscing about the time he worked at the local video store, explaining the eventual decline of chains such as Blockbuster. He said that because of the new releases every week and month, the amount of stock that each store would acquire would compound over time. Of course, popular releases would continually get rented, whereas films with a smaller fanbase would fall to the wayside and end up being piled up in the back to make room for other popular releases.

Roger Avery says, “It’s literally a space issue”, in which Tarantino expands saying, “within three to four years you’re literally bursting out of the seams … now all of sudden your tapes are spine facing and it just never stops. If you have a chain you can move things around but if you’re a Mom & Pop that’s just it.”

taking a rest in a stockroom full of adidas trainers while wearing the air max 90 Infrared 2020 edition and ACG burgundy zip-off cargos from the 2019 Season

This is no different to sneakers. However, in the ‘90s there was no internet and online shop spaces, at least not compared to the 2010s and 2020s. This meant that sneakers would eventually pile up and up until they ended up overflowing in the basement.

Similar to the film industry, the footwear industry also worked and works on a constant release cycle, with each month bringing in a new array of drops. This is why shoes would become so heavily discounted to the point where you had the sneakerheads from Japan and other celebrities such as Fat Joe coming into these stores to clear out basements worth of stock.

I thought it was an interesting comparison as I finally realised why exactly these Mom & Pop stores ended up having so much old stock. Even though I worked retail myself, it was a chain where stock was allowed to flow to-and-from the main warehouse (a warehouse which was not only many in number but rumoured to be the size of several football fields). So now I am able to understand these local touchpoints for footwear culture operated in the ‘80s and ‘90s.

Shoes

The Lost Footprints of Lima

Leave a comment
View of the Sea from the cliffs of Mira Flores

Lima is the capital of Peru. A city that everyone has to fly into to get to any and all of the country’s famous tourist sites. Fun fact: Peru is nine times the size of the UK, which gives you a sense of scale. I have only ever scratched the surface when it comes to what the South American contenent has to offer, rendering me anything but an expert so if you are after such knowledge then this may not be the place for you. That said, what I’m writing about doesn’t require you to leave Lima at all. Better yet, it is free. It is certainly not world-renowned like Machu Pichu or as historically significant as Sacsayhuamán, there is no kudos in seeing it, no bragging rights or boasting to your mates down the local boozer about it … the last of which would likely result in a few laughs on your behalf. Although noticing it is commendable or even noting it would speak volumes about your perceptive skills.

Walking around Lima, it is easy to get distracted by the architecture and distinct energy. For most, this will be your first chance to gather a sense of what Peru means to you, at least as far as city life is concerned. Lima’s pavements, sidewalks or la veredas are like any other city in so much as they get you from A to B. The concrete below your feet that interlinks the large metropolis feels like any other. It is hardly a tourist site in itself, a point I would hardly contest. However, if you’re fascinated by all things shoe-related then the streets of Lima might just be a fascinating space to you.

It had been over two years since I’d had the chance to wander its streets. A persistent mist and elderly men with white beards reading alone made up the mostly unexplored canvas of the city for me. Yet upon this visit, it was neither of those things that distracted me, instead, I found my gaze constantly drifting towards the ground below. Footprints pressed into the concrete pavement were frequent, no longer an accident or detail I could breeze past (pardon the pun). I’d never taken notice of this in any other city, a fact made even more noteworthy as I am someone who has a knack for spotting abandoned footwear (another project entirely). Why were there so many footprints dotted about?  What did this mean about Lima and the people who lived there?

Perhaps it was because London’s pavements were built from a different type of concrete, was it that simple? Or was it that the English were too polite? A stereotype of course and an outdated one as London is recognised as a global hub, making it a poor explanation. Maybe it was that the people of London were very adherent to the rules and regulations, the literal red tape that would often surround such a freshly paved sidewalk would clearly be enough of a deterrent … right?

Could it be that the Peruvian government invested more in the public infrastructure? Pouring millions of dollars into the concrete sidewalks of Lima with many of the blocks sectioned off at a time and therefore increasing the chances of accidental footprints happening? This also seemed too simple but I admit there is certainly a logic in this hypothetical. Unlike London, Lima was less rainy which gives the Peruvian people more of a chance to lay fresh concrete … although I think I just made that up.

Was it that Peruvian people, more specifically the Peruvians of Lima, were impatient and therefore more likely to cut corners while traversing the city. Is it just part of the city mindset or grindset? Yet London is a very dog-eat-dog place that has less footprint-covered walkways (this statement is obviously anecdotal as surprise, surprise, I have yet to walk every street in London, or Lima for that matter).

Or was it that the people of Lima were more clumsy and less aware of their surroundings? I could see how consistently great food and weather could contribute to a more laissez-faire approach to life. After all, “watch where you’re walking!” is certainly a phrase that can be heard beckoned by an angry Londoner. Even New Yorkers are known for shouting, “Hey! I’m walking here!”. As far as I know there is not a Peruvian equivalent. This isn’t to say one does not exist as I am not exactly a professor of Peruvian linguistics, if that were the case then I’d have a couple of books to my name.

Was it the lack of literal red tape? I’ve been around Peru long enough to realise that when it comes to construction, things are often not done ‘by the book’. Maybe that book got lost in shipping, left on the shelf or simply not read at all (personally I think it is the latter). Unless under the supervision of some mega construction company, many of the health and safety regulations would end up somewhat flouted. With that in mind, would the tape around freshly laid concrete be completely removed from the occasion? Leaving many commuters around the city vulnerable to concrete-covered shoes. Perhaps there is an inside joke about this among Peruvian people that I will later go on to learn. Here’s hoping!

OR was it nothing to do with Peruvian people at all and in fact all to do with the influx of clumsy tourists. Those jetlagged or broken after walking the Inca Trail would be considerably more inclined to make mistakes.

Whatever the reason, the footprints of Lima are many in number and can be seen sprinkled about. From what I can remember they were for the most part a collection of sports shoe imprints, with few high heels scattered about here and there. It is obvious that it was a vast enough occurrence to trigger a sense of enigma in my mind, leading me to write about it.

I will likely never know or meet the people whose outlined feet are pressed into the capital’s street. I do not mind this, at least as far as the near future is concerned. I cannot however promise that it won’t keep me up at night when I hit the age of sixty. Maybe I’ll be fortunate enough to create a documentary about this one day. You could argue that in a way, these prints are a form of abstract graffiti, one more personal than even your signature. This would inadvertently make Lima a city full of truly unsuspecting Graff artists which although cool, doesn’t fit the bill.

I think there is a logical answer to this mystery but for now I think it is better off remaining unanswered.

If you are ever lucky enough to visit Lima, make sure you look down. If you do spot any footprints be sure to take a photo. Send them in if you do, or if you are actually a part of an underground footprint-based cult then also let me know. But if the cult does any weird stuff then please don’t bother … only do it if it is a space for the hip and friendly!

Thanks for reading this slightly odd thought experiment, one that as a half-Peruvian myself has allowed me to explore my other half (wait that sounds wrong).

Here’s a cute photo of a dog for making it to the end
Shoes

What Shoes I Wore On My Trip To South America

2 Comments

While my time away may not have been the ‘Grand Adventure’ I wrote about a few years ago, it gave me a taste of what to wear on foot. Heading to Peru and Brazil for just over six weeks, I took 3 pairs of shoes. These were the La Sportiva TX4, Salomon Speedcross 4 GTX and Nike SB PS8. The first two I had already trialled out in my last trip to Peru ‘22 so I knew how they already passed muster, but the PS8 still had a lot to prove.

The night before the flight out I spent umming and ahhing between taking my recently purchased Nike Lava Domes from ‘03 or my just-as-recently pair of PS8s. Eventually, I went with the Nike PS8 simply because they were less likely to fall apart. The Lava Domes I had sourced from Vinted and being over twenty years since they released had me slightly concerned. Unfortunately this meant putting on hold my dream of capturing a shot of me along the Peruvian mountainside that was inspired by the classic ACG advert of the two climbers descending K2. As they say, there’s always next time …

I ended up wearing the Nike SB PS8 until we ascended into the mountainside where I would spend the next three weeks. There I would end up swapping in a pair of Fisherman Sandals I had bought from the Trujillo’s footwear district. These ran me back 120 soles or approximately £20 and had me feeling like a prime Steve McQueen (minus the charm and sex symbol status), a small price to pay considering.

The Fisherman Sandals I wore for the majority of my time in Peru, were similar to our protagonist from Kerouac’s On The Road and how he swore by his pair of Mexican Huaraches. Admittedly, I was clocking in significantly fewer miles on foot, although if we count the number of air miles they tallied up then it could be a close call.

Allowing the tootsies to breathe as well as providing decent protection from any tarantulas crawling about the dark meant the Fisherman Sandals soon became a favourite of mine. Being light enough to carry, I was also able to strap them onto my bag throughout the travels between airports, revealing to me the importance of weight. Romanticising the idea of knocking about in a pair of heavy-duty leather boots during future trips has since become less practical.

Arriving in the northerly beach town of Natal, Brazil would suddenly render my Fisherman Sandals less than ideal. Having a knack for carrying around sand and creating funky tan lines were just two teething points I discovered during my first two days. Not to mention they only helped me stick out like a sore thumb, a fact I tried my best to disguise for multiple reasons. That being said, the Umbro England shorts I wore as swim shorts didn’t aid this disguise.

On day three I’d had enough of my Sandals and wandered into one of the many Havaianas shops along the beachfront. I spotted a pair of football-inspired ones hanging from the racks, a familiar yellow and green beckoning from its spongy sole. At a retail price of 25 Real (approximately £4), they were soon slapping against the bottom of my feet like an old friend (a metaphor which doesn’t really make sense but sounds great).

A Haviaianas advert I spotted in the Modern Art Museums Library

A week or so later I was in Rio, a city I had longed to set foot in for the past two years. For this leg of the journey, I had booked an apartment about 800 meters from the beach. Here my daily step count shot up and I would find my Fisherman Sandals coming back into action. Getting about the older parts of the city where the financial district and museums were would also mean blending in to avoid any of the more colourful characters and tourist traps. This was also relatively easy thanks to the Flamengo F.C shirt I picked up from the high street in Ipanema.

Once out in the warmer climates of South America, the need for fully protective footwear was less of a concern. This was partly because I wasn’t exactly hiking up mountains each day, although trips into the Peruvian village for dinner at night did mean having to lace up my Speedcross 4s. The longer I can wear open-toed footwear the better, although when it came to steep descents, these types of shoes inevitably fell short.

One of the many great Vibram sole swaps out there today

This leads me to think that a pair of Keen Sandals could be worth trying next time. Either that or a pair of hybrid Fisherman Sandals that has a lugged Vibram outsole glued on. Perhaps even one of the New Balance Niobium concepts however the most minimal section of the shoe usually relies on a slipper-based silhouette, defeating the whole open-toe objective. While I am not seriously considering taking my Fishermans to the Vibram workshop in London to get them kitted out, you do only live once as the famous saying goes. Plus with all the astroturf hybrids coming into fray, I wonder if a trail-inspired Fisherman Sandal is as radical as it sounds.

It goes without saying that travelling for any significant time abroad does mainly concern the climate. For example, my cousin swears by her Salomon XT-6s which she wore for the entirety of her trip around East Asia. Secondly, ‘fitting in’ or not attracting attention plays another major role in the decision-making process.

If you can source a locally-used piece of footwear for a reasonable price, then it not only speaks towards your respect towards the culture you are currently emersed in but it can also act as a symbol of the time spent in said space. That said, if you’re rocking around in a pair of Havaianas and you’re Ed Sheeran, the fiery red hair on the top of your head will likely outweigh your snazzy set of flip-flops… so swings and roundabouts really.

Ed Sheeran in 2009 showing off the least inconspicuous pair of high tops imaginable

[On a further note, the idea that global popstar Ed Sheeran can simply ‘blend in’ anywhere on this earth is silly – so no type of footwear will help this matter, just in case he reads the blog].

Shoes

10 Abadoned Footwear Projects

Leave a comment

Having had the idea to focus on Abandoned Footwear, it recently came to mind to ask Perplexity for some previous examples where this has been the focused topic. One of the most interesting and similar concept was Daniel Bass’ 2004 project, which involved Lost Shoes. An exhibition that also cropped up was that of Chiharu Shiota’s work which initially sparked the idea in my mind. The following is great food for thought and was worth sharing.

There are several notable art exhibitions and installations that focus on abandoned shoes, often using them as powerful symbols to convey deeper social and historical messages.

1. Shoes on the Danube Promenade

Located in Budapest, this poignant memorial features 60 pairs of iron shoes set into the concrete along the Danube River. Created by film director Can Togay and sculptor Gyula Pauer in 2005, the installation commemorates Hungarian Jews who were shot on the riverbanks during World War II. The shoes symbolize the victims’ abrupt departure from life, evoking a strong emotional response as viewers are confronted with the tangible absence of their owners.

2. Thousands of Shoes on Capitol Hill

In March 2018, over 7,000 pairs of shoes were displayed on the lawn of the U.S. Capitol as part of a protest against gun violence, particularly in schools. This installation aimed to represent the estimated number of children killed by gun violence since the Sandy Hook tragedy in 2012. The visual impact of the shoes served to humanize the statistics and evoke collective trauma associated with mass shootings.

3. Hammer Projects: Chiharu Shiota

Chiharu Shiota’s work often incorporates found objects, including abandoned shoes, to explore themes of memory and loss. Although this exhibition took place from March to August 2023 at Hammer Museum in Los Angeles, it highlighted how such objects can serve as metaphors for personal and collective experiences.

4. Walk This Way Exhibition

The Dallas Holocaust and Human Rights Museum features an exhibition titled “Walk This Way,” which explores women’s history through footwear. This exhibition reflects on how shoes can symbolize women’s evolving roles in society over the past 200 years, emphasizing their significance beyond mere fashion.

5. Overboard

This exhibition, held in Washington, D.C., features handcrafted replicas of Nike shoes made from discarded materials, inspired by the “Great Shoe Spill” of 1990 when thousands of shoes fell into the Pacific Ocean. Artist Andy Yoder created these sculptures to provoke thought about waste and consumerism while drawing attention to the environmental impact of discarded footwear.

6. Lost Shoes by Daniel Bass

Daniel Bass’s installation consists of a grid of 135 photographs depicting lost or abandoned shoes, primarily taken in Kent, England. This collection highlights the stories behind these forgotten items, transforming them into a commentary on loss and memory through visual art.

7. Footprint: The Tracks of Shoes in Fashion

Located at Antwerp’s Fashion Museum (MoMu), this exhibition gathers around 600 pairs of designer shoes from the 20th and 21st centuries. It explores the emotional connections between shoes and their wearers, emphasizing individual stories rather than focusing solely on the products themselves.

8. Concealed Shoes in the York Castle Museum

This collection features historical shoes that were hidden in walls or under floors as protective talismans against evil spirits. These concealed shoes provide insights into past beliefs and practices surrounding personal belongings, illustrating how shoes can carry significant cultural meanings.

9. The Shoe Memorial at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

This poignant installation includes 4,000 pairs of shoes confiscated from victims at the Majdanek concentration camp. The varying sizes and conditions of the shoes serve as stark reminders of the individuals who suffered during the Holocaust, transforming each pair into a powerful symbol of lost lives and humanity.

10. The Shoes Project by Various Artists

This ongoing project features installations across various locations where artists create pieces using abandoned shoes to address themes of homelessness, loss, and social justice. Each installation varies in style and message but collectively aims to raise awareness about societal issues related to displacement and neglect.

These exhibitions not only highlight the aesthetic qualities of abandoned shoes but also engage viewers with profound narratives about history, memory, and social commentary.

Shoes

Long Form Nike Dancing Piece

Leave a comment

Having been interested in the potential of the Nike Jam, I wanted to explore the world from which the shoe came. Digging into the history, I stumbled across Nike’s venture into dancing and breakdancing. From cool old adverts to the undiscovered talents of Sofia Boutella, writing this piece was fun.

If you do fancy giving it a read then here you go: https://thesolesupplier.co.uk/news/breaking-new-ground-nikes-journey-into-the-world-of-breakdancing/