The first thing that comes to mind at Green Shoes Devonshire workshop is the childrens tale of The Elves and the Shoemaker. Its hands – on method of making shoes is probably much the same as that of the poor cobbler who, with the help of a little elvish magic, turns a piece of leather into a thriving small business. Here the process has taken a little lunger. It is 3(1 years since founder Alison Hastie learned to make shoes. Now she and her five fellow company shareholders and colleagues sell to loyal customers and celebrities alike: their eco -
credentials. traditional techniques and handmade shoes and boots are fashionable and sought – after.

Inside their workshop, leather is piled high and tools set out on well – worn benches with workmanlike sewing machines poised to stitch, while around the room of this converted mill on the bank of the River Dart are shoes – some finished and many works in progress. “Shoemaking is not like knitting, weaving or cooking,” Alison says. “You need a workshop and tools – you cant do it in your kitchen. Thats why theres a lot of mystery about shoemaking. Modern shoes are industrial and you cant really work out how they are put together.”

In Totnes, where Green Shoes first opened, there were once half a dozen shoemakers; in fact, every town had several cordwainers. Cobblers repaired shoes, while cordwainers cut and stitched them. “Cobblers could also make shoes,” Alison says, “but the know – how is being lost.”It takes 23 steps to produce a pair of Green Shoes footwear for men, women and children: knee – high boots in cherry red, buckled calf – length chocolate brown suede, soft yellow pumps, strappy sandals, desert boots and comfortable mules. All can be resoled and repaired to last for years, and the childrens shoes can be re – sized to grow with the child. Alison researched land army and peasant country footwear from examples in museums, so her shoes are stylish interpretations of these old designs. “It is very simple but there arent many purveyors of this level of simplicity”.

Theres nothing of the industrial factory here. Alison expertly cuts a mans field boot from a dark heavy grained leather using patterns that hang on the wall behind her workbench. She takes a jam jar of Latex glue to paste them together before sitting at one of the four low – tech but robust machines to stitch the pieces. Next are the crepe rubber soles, tapped from trees in Sri I.anka, before the boot is hammered into shape around a last. Virtually nothing is wasted; Scrapstore, a local craft recycling project, picks up the leather remnants for its childrens workshops. “Organisers of community bonfires like the ground – off rubber because it makes excellent firelighters,” Alison says. “Our waste comes down to half a bag of card, paper and kitchen waste a week, which is less than most households. For an industrial process that is quite a feat.”

Alison was at the University of Exeter in the idealistic Seventies when the self – sufficiency vibe and working with your hands were popular, especially in the south west. At Hood Fayrc -”a mock Medieval fair with acoustic music and masses of hair and beads”- held on the banks of the Dart, she met a man who was making shoes and learned the basics. “We were into Petra Kelly, the German activist and politician, and the green movement – feminists with a small f – so calling our business Green Shoes just felt right. Now it fits with eco – consumerism but that wasnt on our minds when we named it.”

Youth was on her side. She was just 23 years old when she began the business with her friend Sarah Almy, with ?G00 for equipment, and had a ten – month – old son “Children are just part of your life when you have them young. Luke would be in the workshop, in tact, there were always babies about. We were all women in the business and none of us ever worked full – time. It was a simple life with not much money – that v/as the compromise. Friends might have earned more but they envied our flexibility.” “We” is the five women who currently run Green Shoes; each has her own role as well as making shoes: Becky Marshall handles the website; Pat Lpham looks after the customers and orders; Steph Crutchley, who has been a partner for 20 years, deals with finance; Alison creates new designs; and Amy Ford is the apprentice.

Their raw material comes from a company that collects all the surplus leather from big but high – quality manufacturers such as Clarks and Dr Martens. “These companies go to the European tanneries and choose their leather colours, placing huge orders. At the end of the season, they sell off the leftovers. It means a small company like ours can have a wide colour range,” Alison says, waving a hand over a toppling pile of hides: rich maroon, scarlet, turquoise and midnight blue.

Once fitted lor a pair, there is a record of your feet, so future purchases can be made by mail order. “Blokes come back again and again,” Alison says, “because they dont want to shop for shoes on a Saturday, and it is convenient for remote rural customers, too.” Over the years theyve had some strange requests: Odd shoes in red and green for Cambridge theologists and mathematicians, vegan pirate boots for a re – enactment and, on occasion, weve been asked via the internet whether we make thigh – high boots.

Originally, Green Shoes was based in a shop in Totnes, and it was a difficult decision for them to leave the high street behind, moving their shop window to a website, and their workshop to the mill unit near Buckfastleigh where the River Dart rushes over the rocks in the yard. “Running the shop was exhausting as the public often wouldnt get what we do. Havent you got any wellies? was a common question,” Alison remembers. “The workshop is open to the public – people often browse on the web then when they come, theyre already going to buy.”

Like most of us, all the women here love shoes, but for them its the smell of leather and the methodical process of cutting, stitching and shaping. As the sun streams onto the workbench, Alison says simply, “making shoes keeps me grounded.”

IN FEET FIRST

CL FEATURES EDITOR LISA SYKES BECOMES A CORDWAINER FOR THE DAY
It all starts with us drawing around our stockinged feet on paper. We take a measure across the widest part and record the length. Theres me, Sue, Roger and Mary.
Green Shoes founder Alison holds up a half a cow – in green! The hide is a recognisable bovine shape and we learn the leather is best by the spine with deteriorating quality down the legs to the belly. I fall for the soft eco – tanned leather in rich brown for my desert boots and plan to edge with red stitching. Smoothing cut hide on the workbench theres a moment of trepidat on before I remember to cut with the grain. With a pattern to fit my feet, Im off with the clicking knife to score the shape with a curved blade – I nearly come away with two left feet by forgetting to turn the pattern over. A slippage on my first vamp has me crestfallen but we hide it under the quarters. My confidence grows with each nut, hut stitching it all together is something else There are no volunteers to be first on the intimidating incustrial sewing machines. We practise on scraps first and I manage a passably straight low of stitches.

Suddenly, the shoes become 3D and then it is the “un bit boiling the big old kettle for steam to soften leather, then squeezing and hammering the last into the shoe to shape it. The magic moment comes when I ease the last off and I have a pair of shaped, freestanding boots – handmade by me…and two experienced shoemakers.