The True French Shoemaker

Monsieur, je suis cordonnier...

If you ever go abroad, forget museums and restaurants. Find an excuse to see a shoemaker.

It is 2023. I just moved in Busca, a colorful neighborhood of Toulouse. I have only one pair of shoes. Meindl. Real nice, just I bought them slightly too large and my ankle moves up and down.

I take them to cordonnier, which is French for a shoemaker. The cordonnier says yep, we have a machine to redo the ankle, but that’s a ton of work, 46 euro and two weeks waiting time.

Eeeerr….

Luckily Busca is the cordonier heaven, so I walk to another shoemaker just round the corner for a second opinion. He says err, yes, we do have the ankle machine, 60 euro, a ton of work, the ankle is very complicated.

I don't give up and find a third cordonnier a few blocks away. He does not have the ankle machine, but instead asks, "Why do you want to fix the ankle?" I explain, in my broken French. He listens, nods, then takes a pair of scissors and cuts a small piece of cardboard. He slips that cardboard into my shoe, placing it inside, deep in front, under the toes.

I say “Pardon monsieur, because of my bad French, you didn't understand. My problem is with the ankle.” He replies: “Try it.“

I try the shoe and it fits perfectly. The ankle stops moving. He explains, "The ankle shifts when the toes have too much space."

Amazed, I say, "Monsieur, I’m impressed you found such a simple solution."

He replies, with a modest shrug, "Monsieur, je suis cordonnier…" (Sir, I am a shoemaker.)

He then replaces the cardboard with custom-made pad, which costs 15 euro.

Post Scriptum

The shoemaker from the story - that’s Cordonnerie Caraman, Toulouse (google maps).

The shoemaker in the picture is another excellent one: Cordonnerie du Colisée, Lille (google maps).

After three years in this country and a lot of hesitation whether I am ready to write about France, this article starts my French series. More to come! Next time in France, please don’t forget to see a cordonier.