Torro Shoe Repair and Leather Works. Ft. Myers, Fla. By Paul Goldfinger © 2015.
By Paul Goldfinger, Editor @Blogfinger
I went into the Torro Shoe Repair and Leather Works shop on McGregor Blvd. in Fort Myers, Florida, not far from the Edison and Ford estates. The sign in the window offered cheerleading and kick boxing lessons. Inside, it was a small space with several machines to fix shoes and the sort of disarray that only occurs in places where artists or craftsmen work.
Somehow old-time shoe repair shops like this survive because some leather items are too good to be disposable. My belt came from Pennsylvania via Bill’s Khaki’s, and I needed two holes added.
This is not a belt to throw away when the size needs adjusting. I’m a sucker for handmade items that have patina, enduring parts, mechanical mechanisms, and classy old-fashioned styling, so this is the ad from Bill’s that got me to purchase their English bridle leather belt with a stainless steel buckle—this belt had “meaning:”
“For years, customers have asked us to make a belt that goes perfectly with our khakis and jeans. But making a belt just for the sake of it wasn’t compelling… the belt had to have meaning. Then we found Floyd, a second generation Amish harness maker whose workshop lies deep in the remote mountains of Pennsylvania. This belt was our first collaborative effort. The end result explains why we went to such great lengths to bring these belts to you.”
I never met the Torro craftsman who fixed my belt at the rate of $2.00 per hole. I imagined him to be old-world, perhaps Italian, in his manner, wearing a soiled apron that was tinted by hundreds of cans of shoe polish—-the kind that you had to rub into the shoe. I thought he might have Puccini playing on the radio. But he never materialized , and there was no music.
Instead, a pretty, slender, young blond woman came out from the back. She had no patina or other signs of aging or handmade workmanship, but she did have style. Maybe she was the kick boxing instructor.
Anyhow she told me to leave the belt and come back later. I said, “Don’t I get a ticket or something?” She said, ” I just handed it to you.” Uh oh, my cover was blown. I was so busy being distracted that a tiny orange ticket wound up in my shirt pocket. On it it said only “2 holes.”
Did I feel loved at Torro? Not really, but I did enjoy the visit. And my pants no longer tend to drift south.
PINK MARTINI from their album “Hang On Little Tomato.”
A leather punch is a good investment and often costs under $10. I have used mine many times adding holes in the good direction. Given the decline of dress shoes, I know of a number of shoe repair places that have closed as their owners retired. Also, as explained to me by one owner, the cost of leather and rubber has increased to the point that repairs seem too costly. As a child, I was fascinated by the spinning rows of grinding and polishing wheels at my local place in Trenton.
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I love the smell of leather and polish in the old shoe repair shops. My home town shoemaker (though he didn’t make shoes) did have Italian opera playing. He didn’t speak English other than “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday” for your pickup day, but his hands told you immediately that he knew exactly what needed to be done to fix your shoes. Those shops are few and far between these days.