Paulius Musteikis
Nathanael Hawthorne, a largely self-taught cobbler, says shoe repair can feel “like I’m sculpting.”
One of the most cutting insults in the world of professional cooking is to call someone a “shoemaker.”
Slang for a sloppy, untalented chef, the rebuke comes from a stereotype that cobblers are known for shoddy work — even the phrase “cobbled together” implies haste and carelessness in completing a task.
Nathanael Hawthorne worked as a professional chef for seven years in Madison and Hawaii. He was no shoemaker, but he soon grew tired of the “rat race” — long hours, stressful work and strong personalities together in a tight space.
So when someone said, “go make shoes,” he took it literally. He got out of the kitchen and took up the art of leatherworking and shoe repair with the goal of starting his own business. He and his mother, Jillian Jurgens, began making custom shoes and leather bags for family and friends in 2013 and purchased Heel and Sole Connection on Madison’s north side in December of 2014.
The small storefront has been a fixture at 617 N. Sherman Ave. for decades, but had fallen on hard times in recent years. “The owner was an older guy who was looking to get out of the business,” Hawthorne says. It was a serendipitous connection — Hawthorne had struggled to find an apprenticeship and says it was difficult to convince master cobblers that he was serious about getting into the trade.
“People from our generation tend not to follow through,” he says.
Hawthorne, 26, is a millennial — part of a generation known for playing a key role in the rise of high-tech industries and cutting-edge startups. But he represents a sub-group of young people who are choosing to unplug and pursue old-fashioned, artisan trades. He taught himself the basics of shoe repair using Internet guides and watching videos.
“When I’m standing at the sander, working on a shoe’s toe or heel, making it look just right, it almost feels like I’m sculpting,” Hawthorne says. “It’s so satisfying — there’s an artistic side to this.”
Standing at his workbench on a Monday afternoon, Hawthorne transforms a pair of tobacco-colored cowboy boots into a Western-inspired wallet for a customer. The boots had sentimental value to the owner, but they were worn out.
“There are hundreds of ways to mess up a pair of shoes,” Hawthorne says. “But master cobblers tend to say, ‘Anything you can mess up, I can fix.’”
Behind him, more shoes awaiting repair are piled high on shelves. The workshop, crowded but tidy, is filled with antique equipment — sanders, grinders, case stitchers and pneumatic presses — some of which date to 1939. Spare parts are sometimes hard to come by, and repairs are expensive, but the machines are built to last.
There are a handful of cobbler shops left in the Madison area, but outside the city the rapid decline of the industry is more apparent. Shops in Beaver Dam and Stevens Point have recently closed, and with many cobblers reaching retirement age, more shops are likely to disappear. Some customers drive as far as 50 miles to get shoes repaired at Heel and Sole Connection.
“Good shoes deserve to be fixed,” says Hawthorne.
Hawthorne is hopeful the trade is primed for a resurgence. He’s seen a surprising increase in the number of people younger than 30 joining trade groups.
Business is steady; the recent recession forced money-conscious consumers to think about repairing their shoes instead of replacing them. Sometimes, Hawthorne turns down 10 or 15 jobs a day. The demand has caused him to take a brief hiatus from making custom shoes so he can focus on repairs, but he dreams of one day scaling up production. He looks to Allen Edmonds, a famed Wisconsin-based shoemaker, for inspiration.
“The ultimate goal,” he says, “is much bigger than this repair shop.”
Heel and Sole Connection opened in 1989
Custom Cobblers took over in 2014
Number of shoe repair shops in the U.S. 15 years ago: 60,000
Number of shoe repair shops today: 7,000
