What I Did Over Summer Vacation: Part Two

How to make: a summary

For my friend Santiago, I decided the loafer style would be best, and a good time to test the antique grommet machine.  The day before, I purchased a bucket of multicolored eyelets from this 80+ year old man who sells industrial sewing machines out of his basement in Akron.  His name is Mr. Ed, like the television horse.  I've been obsessed with colored grommets since working on Spring & Clifton's Spring 2009 line a few months ago.  For some reason, it seems impossible (or at least impossibly expensive) to find more than a few colors of these grommets in the Garment District in NY.  Therefore, when Mr. Ed filled up a plastic margarine tub with the tiny metal skittles, I felt as rich as if he'd handed me a pot of gold.

This is the really serious "stitcher" that I learned how to use.  It consists of a heavy metal arm that pivots and is bolted to the counter.  It's somewhat dangerous, and somehow my dad has managed to stitch his hand on more than one occasion on similar machines over the decades.  I got the hang of it rather quickly, but in my own way, which was to turn the power on, but use the hand-crank wheel to move the needle manually stitch-by-stitch.  It was faster than it sounds.  I'm kind of terrified of this dinosaur though.

This ancient hand tool makes a valley to sew into.  I got a set of alphabet leather stamps, and hammered out nerdy stuff onto the soles of everything I made.  After the machine stitching, I used thin strips of the electric-blue suede to hand-sew the vamp (top of foot piece) to the body of the shoe through tiny holes I pre-punched with a medieval-looking leather-hole-punch.  

Santiago's sporty feet in the finished pair.   

What I Did Over Summer Vacation: Part1

   Above:  the first moccasins that I sketched in my book.  They turned out too big, but encouraging.

My first successful pair on my pasty legs in the park!  The cutouts are inspired by a ribcage and the fringe is rounded like a picket fence.  Sandally, sort of.

A loafer pair that my sister Katie and I "collaborated" on.  They are made of fake alligator and we stamped them with a paint-stamp-pad from the craft store, then sprayed them with a leather finisher.  

These are Heart-inspired moccasins that I made for Julie's birthday.  They are made of a slightly textured white leather and pale-grey suede.

These are the backs of the ones above.

A brief history of (my) moccasins:

     Last spring, I began noticing moccasins in shoe-stores in my neighborhood, and for once I was not repelled by their hippie associations.  Instead, I thought, of course, I could make those.  And they would be even cooler.  

     It turns out I could, and I'm not as egoistic as I sound. It's in my blood.  My dad owns a cobbler shop in Canton, Ohio, and I come from a family of shoerepairmen and leatherworkers: my great-great uncle, grandfather, father, and two uncles own or have owned their own  leatherworking, cobbling, or saddle shops.  So, after briefly considering the Shoemaking 1 class at F.I.T., I decided it would be a better idea to spend time with the pops out in the heartland and really get immersed shoemaking and leatherworking processes.  

     Ohio is a great place to learn about leather and shoemaking for a number of reasons:

1. Proximity to cows, who provide the leather, which is cheaper in Ohio since it hasn't been shipped or taxed yet.
2. A tradition of saddlemaking and leatherworking, as most of the state is rural and people ride horses for fun.
3. The Amish population is the largest in the country there.  They use horses as their main means of transportation and make some of the most beautiful belts, shoes, harnesses, saddles, etc.  They also make delicious cheese, wine, and pretzels, and Weaver's Leather, where I purchased most of my leather, is in the heart of Amish country.
4. There aren't very many distractions.  As in, it's not New York.  There is not a ton to do in the middle of nowhere.  The only time I hung out with people my own age (Thanks Raquel!) , we went to an effing bonfire.    Another time I met people my age at a monthly art night in Canton, and they too suggested a bonfire later in the evening.  If you like bonfires and know the right people, it's the place for you.  If, like me, you have zero friends in the Buckeye State, you might spend a lot of late nights in Dad's cobbler shop getting high on his supposedly "green" shoe glue 'til the wee hours, and trying to make stuff, which is what happened to me.

More later!