The beauty of lines
Beautiful silhouette is a combination of lines. The last shape and the upper’s lines must come together as one. This marks the most creative stage of the shoemaking process. It is definitely the most fun time to me, too.
A legendary Polish shoemaker, Brunon Kamiński, frequently referred to 'the lines' as the key to great shoe design language. I concur with that view fully. I was thinking in that terms long before I went into shoemaking myself. In my years previous to the current state of affairs, I was deep into IT world and one of my design gurus - Sir Jony Ive - represented to me that perfect fulfillment of the very definition what great design is in general. Even though he is no longer in charge of design at Apple, I still use their products exclusively, for I can sense his influence all over it. I’m certain that we both share the same feelings toward a good design, when it comes to literally everything in our common surroundings: architecture, vehicles, appliances etc.
I fell in love with this upper’s design immediately after I saw this beautiful back of the heel wonder.
Growing from that ways of thinking, I feel like a good design is not obvious. It does should feel like an inevitable solution, though, when executed using the right approach. To both of us, the simplicity is our Holy Grail that we are looking for. Good design immediately explains the purpose of the product, even before the first use. Whatever seems intuitive is designed well.
That notion of purpose and simplicity is what makes the shoe design timeless.
Classic styles are those which are still with us for more than a hundred years. But classic shoemaking is not only the design.
It also refers to the technique. In my view, classic shoe construction needs to have something to do with sewing, pegging or both. Consequently, a cemented construction type is not regarded by me as classic, because historically we didn’t have good enough glueing solutions to make it so.
Hence, a classic construction type is fairly easy to ascertain. There’s a fine line between what is classic and what is not in the shoe design, though. That part is very interesting to talk about, in my opinion.
I will use one example to explain what I mean here. What makes a full brogue derby shoe design a classic one? In order to call it that term, the design needs to sport a wingtip, five-parts upper construction, decorative perforations and serration along the edges of the leather. But is it simple? Is it inevitable? Is it purposeful? The brogue design itself made sense before concrete sidewalks were ubiquitous. Today, it’s all about the character, the looks.
It is the very definition of a legacy design solution. It serves no function nowadays. And that’s what makes its classic vibe questionable to me.
Personally, I feel like a classic design is a combination of a legacy construction type and systematized upper design lines. It makes use of those solutions that are necessary to serve its purpose only. True classic design gets rid of elements that are not essential to its function. If we want to take it to the extreme, we would state that the ultimate classic design is a seamless wholecut example. Although I feel like it’s true, the footwear would be horribly boring if reduced to the pure function mode. That fact makes the lines useful and somewhat necessary.
The making process of that oxford pair I’m showing you here, was an inspiration for this blog post. It serves as a great illustration of a classic design in action. It’s also a very rare example of a fantastic upper design. I’ve made this pair as part of my day job as an outworker, so both the last shape and the upper design are not mine. But when I saw for the first time this design, I thought to myself immediately: “This one is so classic!”. Even though those lines are executed with a little twist to it, thanks to that beautiful heel back part pattern, it surely feels like fully purposeful and simple at the same time.
Executed using a classic pegged construction type, this fantastic pair surely deserves a good hand-welted one, too. Hence, I gave it a little touch of it on the top of the welt for that look and feel.
The lines are the very first thing I analyze, whenever I’m looking at other maker’s works. The bottom making and the finishing job would be my next steps in overall judgment if I’m experiencing a true greatness in execution or not.
The lines are the key to my heart and I love some of the shoemakers out there exactly for those.
The amount of work and attention to the finishing process serves me only as a form of confirmation of what I’ve already established as my opinion, regarding a given craftsman. I’m always looking for logic and purpose in chosen solutions. How the upper’s lines corresponds to the bottom elements. That kind of details creates a full picture of well done shoemaking job to me. The lines are the way to make a pair of shoes truly special.