There's a snob element to re-soled shoes that doesn't apply to used clothing. An old suitcase, briefcase, wallet or saddle have class, as do well-kept hand-made shoes, but a suite with a shiny seat impresses nobody. Something to do with the animal nature of leather? (I like Woody Allen's joke. "This wallet belonged to my grandfather. On his deathbed... he sold it to me."
As time passed suits were sold with the option to purchase 2 pair of trouser to circumvent this challenge. I remember seeing shiny, and sometimes the beginning of threadbare, trousers.
"Banjo" Patterson wrote a poem about "When your pants begin to go" - the sign that you have really hit bottom. And my mother, like most others, had their dressmaker, "a little woman around the corner" who did alterations and repairs.
I do remember those steel tips on the heels and toes of shoes -not mine though. My parents were not from families wealthy enough to do that. However, there was a shoe iron in the garage for resoling shoes. I cannot remember it being used so may have been my grandparents who passed it down. My Grandmother made my mother's clothes and my mother made mine:). My "Aussie aunt" worked for a top salon in Collins Street, Melbourne as a beader so may have had access to fabric. Many memories rising after reading this post.
We also had a shoe a few sizes of shoe irons in the basement. I remember the steel on the heels of my dad’s shoe and the sound they made like tap shoes.
The official campaign to recycle worn out shoes is a telltale sign of an impending recession (its a depression when YOU have to resole your shoes) much like the length of ladies' hemlines. Of course for those of the elder generation this story brings back painful memories of the German occupation.
There's a snob element to re-soled shoes that doesn't apply to used clothing. An old suitcase, briefcase, wallet or saddle have class, as do well-kept hand-made shoes, but a suite with a shiny seat impresses nobody. Something to do with the animal nature of leather? (I like Woody Allen's joke. "This wallet belonged to my grandfather. On his deathbed... he sold it to me."
As time passed suits were sold with the option to purchase 2 pair of trouser to circumvent this challenge. I remember seeing shiny, and sometimes the beginning of threadbare, trousers.
"Banjo" Patterson wrote a poem about "When your pants begin to go" - the sign that you have really hit bottom. And my mother, like most others, had their dressmaker, "a little woman around the corner" who did alterations and repairs.
I do remember those steel tips on the heels and toes of shoes -not mine though. My parents were not from families wealthy enough to do that. However, there was a shoe iron in the garage for resoling shoes. I cannot remember it being used so may have been my grandparents who passed it down. My Grandmother made my mother's clothes and my mother made mine:). My "Aussie aunt" worked for a top salon in Collins Street, Melbourne as a beader so may have had access to fabric. Many memories rising after reading this post.
We also had a shoe a few sizes of shoe irons in the basement. I remember the steel on the heels of my dad’s shoe and the sound they made like tap shoes.
The official campaign to recycle worn out shoes is a telltale sign of an impending recession (its a depression when YOU have to resole your shoes) much like the length of ladies' hemlines. Of course for those of the elder generation this story brings back painful memories of the German occupation.