Scarpe (shoes)

                                    I came home yesterday.  It was a day of mixed emotions.  I was not ready to leave as I had not completed my mission of finding an apartment in Milano.  However, I was excited to return to the familiar.  Worried about losing what I had gained in terms of my language skills, but was anxious to see how things were progressing on my house project.  My trip, like many trips, was a series of stories and each story was a new adventure displayed on a blank canvas.  One recent adventure will give insight into Italians and their unique culture.

For as many years as I  worked in San Francisco I shopped at Wilkes-Bashford.  I knew Wilkes and most of the employees at his incredibly well-appointed store.  Sadly, Wilkes had to sell the business to a family of stores from the east coast.  The Mitchells have never really understood the value of the Wilkes name and thus have never captured the heart of the City.  John ran the shoe department.  He was the best curator of men’s shoes.  He became a victim of the Covid shutdown.   When they released him,  I called to express my disbelief to Bob Mitchell.  Even in difficult times, you don’t trade your best salesperson.  I have not gone back to the store since ---- I am a loyalist. 

John was responsible for bringing Bontoni to Wilkes,  At the time Bontoni was a little-known shoe brand in the US.  They now sell their product through a series of exclusive boutiques in selected cities in the US and various countries around the world.  I called John to see if he could introduce me to the Bontoni owners as I thought it would be fun to visit while in Milano.  Like a good friend, he introduced me to Franco.  Franco along with his father and other family members owns this amazing business.  He graciously invited me to come down and see their “factory” which, until recently, was part of their home. 

Located in the Le Marche region of Italy which is between the Apennine Mountains and the Adriatic Coast.  It is a beautiful region known mostly for shoemaking.  It is one of those regions which has not quite been discovered so tourism is limited but beauty is not. 

Here is what makes Italy and “Made in Italy” the brand that many brands aspire.  Bontoni makes 3600 pairs of shoes a year, ten a day/on average.  It is amazing that this enterprise is able to make that many shoes.  What is even more amazing, it takes one employee 4 hours to stitch one pair of shoes by hand.  The pattern is cut by hand; each pair sits in a last so as to better shape the leather; all are polished by hand.  I am not kidding each pair is hand polished to an incredible shine.  The envy of every drill sergeant.    Ten employees and every step in the process is done by hand or with small instruments.  These men and women are creating works of art.  They are masters of their craft and are working for the love of what they create.  Living in a world of mass production; efficient distribution and growth above all, it is stunning to see that things can be created in such a manner.  For an Italian artisan, they are constantly dealing with the tension between the desire to grow a business and the love of the artistry of their craft.  There is the fear that growth will likely bring a decline in quality and the value proposition of a truly handmade product that is at the core of their business.  Then there is the concern of the pretenders who copy the product but not the quality, care, and love of making something of value. The family exists for the love of their craft and the joy of creating beautiful shoes. 

Often we become wrapped in a blanket of efficiency and distribution to as many as possible.  Valuation comes from the number of eyes on the page regardless of what’s on the page.  Measured to the average we are proud of beating the average rather than seeking to excel.

The opportunity to see the pride and joy of generations working together to maintain their craft was to understand that for Italians it is more than beating quarterly results.

Oh, the best part ---- Franco’s father, Manfredo, the patriarch, drove me to the train station in his green Mini.  He does not speak English which allowed me to practice my Italian.  Amongst other things, he plays the saxophone.  I told him I played the piano ------

We are getting the band back together!!!

 

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