Friday, August 10, 2012

On Becoming a Craftsperson

I first became interested in making shoes after meeting my husband.  He used to work in a cobbler's shop in Honduras.  That there were still cobblers in some parts of the world, making shoes by hand for ordinary (poor) people, was something I had never imagined.  I bought a pattern for soft-soled baby shoes, and a book by an artisan shoemaker named Sharon Raymond, but I didn't get started right away because I had a baby, and I really couldn't do that kind of work until he became a preschooler.   (He's still very demanding but at least he's weaned and potty-trained, and doesn't fall asleep on my lap several times a day now.)  

I still don't get to work on shoes as much as I want, because I want to work on shoes a lot.  Now that I've gotten started, I'm obsessed.  Rarely do I close my eyes for even the shortest of cat-naps and not dream about making shoes.  I sneak up to the workshop just to sit for a minute if I don't have time to do anything else.  I hope this means I've "found my calling", and doesn't mean I'll burn out quickly.  

I also don't get to experiment like I want.  I started with the easiest thing: soft-soled, in-stitched children's shoes, and I started posting photos of the shoes I was making on Facebook, and got a bunch of orders.  But there are so many different styles, techniques, and philosophies of shoes that at some point I'll need to set aside what I'm doing for a while to try a new direction, or rather several new directions, one at a time.  I want to spend some time learning to make traditional moccasins, and a while working out of Sharon Raymond's book, and a while working out of another book I just got called Shoes for Free People, and a while learning to make Ugg-style boots with another book I bought (with those 3 books, I probably have the best shoe-making library in the state).  Then I want to adapt what I learn to be able to use only sustainable, environmentally friendly, and salvaged materials, and even learn to tan hides myself.

This is the thing about shoemaking: it's not very popular, even among leatherworkers.  I guess there are significant barriers to entry, starting with conceiving of the idea of making shoes by hand in our modern world.  While it is not a totally lost art, shoemaking has never been the kind of thing everyone did at home, like sewing, spinning, knitting, and embroidery, for example, so the craft had fewer opportunities to be passed down.  The tools and materials are not cheap: I've got at least a grand invested, not counting my sewing machine.  The few artisans who are making shoes by hand today are, by necessity, doing really creative work, and providing me a lot of inspiration.  There's plenty of room for experimentation in this craft, and while the dearth of available patterns can be frustrating, it is also liberating.  I do worry about my limitations, but there is little enough competition in the craft that I don't feel hopelessly outdone (like I do with knitting).  And there seems to be an eager market for my efforts.  This is going to be an exciting journey.   


No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments are moderated.