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10% OFF
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15% OFF
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20% OFF
I was twelve years old the first time I stepped into my grandfather’s workshop. I didn’t know anything about shoes back then. But I liked the smell of the leather, the sound of tools, and how quiet he worked. I didn’t talk much — I just watched him. I felt calm there.
When I was twenty-four, I decided to become a shoemaker. I gave up other jobs and started learning full time. It wasn’t easy. My hands got sore, and I made a lot of mistakes. But I stuck with it. Every shoe taught me something new. Slowly, it began to feel right.
In my late thirties, I started keeping notebooks with drawings and ideas. I wanted to make shoes that lasted — strong, simple, and made with care. Not fast fashion, not factory-made. Just honest shoes, for real people. That’s when it started to feel like my work.
By the time I was fifty-two, I had regular customers. Some would bring old shoes to fix, others just stopped by to talk. I listened to their stories, and it made the work feel more real. I wasn’t just making shoes — I was part of someone’s life.
At sixty-four, I finally made a sign: “Handmade Italian Leather Shoes.” I set up a stall in the village square. No fancy setup — just my boots, a small table, and me. People came. They tried the shoes, asked questions, smiled. And I felt proud of what I had built.
Now I’m seventy. I still make shoes, just not as many. Some days I work. Some days I sit outside the shop and enjoy the sunshine. I have time now for my grandchildren, for walks, for quiet mornings. I still love this craft — but I also enjoy just being here.
These shoes carry a piece of my life.
Each pair has a bit of story in it.
Thanks for walking by — and maybe walking away with something made with heart.
