GRENSON SHOES

Footwear

Chris Sullivan meets Tim Little, creative director and CEO of Northampton Shoemaker Grenson, to discuss the ins and outs of gentlemen’s footwear www.grenson.com www.timlittle.com

man after my own heart, Tim Little is

Aobsessed with the craft of shoemaking. He loves the smell of leather, the welt construction, the polish, the craftsmanship and the truism echoed by George Frazier, the esteemed sixties fashion columnist: “If you want to know if a guy is well dressed? Look down. Hopefully, you will see a pair of shoes, an item that tells all about its wearer.”

I bought my first pair of Tim Little shoes from his King’s Road store in 1999. Simple loafers that looked great with chinos or a sixties slack. I wore them into the ground. Subsequently, in 2010, Little became the owner and creative director of one of the great classic British cordwainer companies, Grenson, and has since maintained their position but added quite a twist by taking classics and, as well as recreating them, giving them a somewhat unique edge. His Roseberry (he gives each one of his line a different moniker), for example, is an archetypal, rather suave plain-toe five eyelet derby based on the classic 207 shape and, constructed from bookbinder leather in rust, brown or black, features a triple welt that gives the item no small degree of heft and lashings of character.

“A customer sent me a pair of shoes a couple of years ago, saying he had been given them as Demob shoes when he left the army in 1945. He was concerned that a bit of stitching was coming loose at the back. We tidied it up and sent them back to him”

Other wonderful additions are the Parker: a classic seam apron moccasin topped lace-up derby made from hand painted country grain, atop a svelte commando sole that would go down a storm with either a 1940s style double-breasted with the pleated peg or a nice understated summer linen single-breasted. And then there is the grained Viktor: a formidable Oxford walking shoe with a thick commando sole that, as sturdy as a Hereford Bull, will suffer everything the elements can throw at a chap and last longer than its owner. Via the wonders of modern technology, we bypassed lockdown and managed to speak to each other almost in person to discuss gentlemen’s footwear.

How did your love affair/fascination with classic shoemaking begin? My mum took me to the Co-op in Long Eaton in 1969 to get my school shoes. The women went up a ladder and brought down the shoes and, as she opened the box, I could smell the unmistakable odour of new shoes. I was hooked. 11 years ago you took over the classic Northampton based shoemakers, Grenson. How did this happen and why was it so important? It was crucial to me, because I felt the brand needed a massive overhaul and it would only be possible if I could make decisions quickly and take risks. If hadn’t taken Grenson over, it would have been a long slow road to mediocrity. People don’t like change and many people hated what I was doing, especially traditional retailers. I needed to be in control and to say, “This is how it’s going to be.”

How did the Grenson association begin? William Green started Grenson in 1866. I was born in Nottingham in 1963. Somehow, we came together in 2005 when the previous owner came to my shop and said, “I think this is what Grenson should be.” I replied, “Imagine this with Grenson’s Heritage”.

Why is it so imperative to preserve classic manufacturing?

The Grenson Factory in the past The Grenson Factory in the present

It’s in our soul (excuse the pun). We make things and sell them. They sell because they are well made. If we can ’t do that, then we give up on the idea that we can create things that people want. Imagine if Made in England didn’t mean anything anymore.

How long should a good shoe remain in service? A customer sent me a pair of shoes a couple of years ago, saying he had been given them as Demob shoes when he left the army in 1945. He was concerned that a bit of stitching was coming loose at the back. We tidied it up and sent them back to him.

All of your shoes for Grenson have a distinct name – how do you choose them? I started naming Grenson shoes using surnames from the Rushden War Memorial, names such as Green and Smith. We quickly ran out of them and also one of the names was Stanley, which sounded like a Christian name; people loved it so we moved to using Christian names. We try to make them relevant or to match the men’s and women’s, like Viktor and Viktoria. Tim Little shoes are all named after my favourite Blues Songs. Names like Stormy Monday, Little Rain, Just a dream, Boom Boom, Little Red Rooster, etc.

Out of all the shoes you’ve ever seen, what is the one that might be called your desert island shoe? One that ticks the most boxes and that you could not live without? Assuming you don’t mean literally a desert island, in which case a double-soled, full grain brogue might not work, I’d have two shoes; one my own, and one someone else’s. Mine would be a Triple Welt whole cut that I did as a special earlier this year. It’s got the thing I love most about English shoes; they get better the more you wear them. You can’t destroy these shoes: the more grief you give them, the better they look. The other shoe I love is the Adidas Gazelle. It’s simple, has beautiful proportions, and I love the last

shape. It’s also very comfortable, inexpensive and comes in millions of colourways.

What was the first shoe you ever bought with your own money? My mum bought me some Dunlop Green Flash to play tennis in, just as Nike was breaking. I went out and bought a pair of Nike Wimbledon and threw the Green Flash away. She was livid.

I loved the Green Flash myself. What’s the shoe you’ve designed that you are most proud of? That’s like, which is your favourite child? I’ll go for Spike. I took the LL Bean Duck Shoe and said, “If Grenson made this, what would it look like?” It’s a bit mad but it has its own following and we might reissue it next year.

What about your wonderful Archive range? Some of the highlights are Dawson, an American workwear inspired boot on a bulbous toe in oiltanned leathers; Sebastian, who is a Longwing Brogue boot in Amber rub-off. There is a group of shoes and boots on a new chestnut pull-up leather that lightens as you bend it; Lloyd, who is my version of a Wall Street penny loafer on an almond toed last, and Brady, who is based on a vintage Swiss Mountain Boot, but I’ve put him on a micro sole to lighten him up.

What exemplifies British shoemaking over the rest of the world? I always think that you can see a Country’s character through its shoemaking. Italian shoes are very beautiful, light and have perfect detailing but aren’t as hard wearing. British shoes are strong, straightforward and very hard wearing, they are kind of ‘no nonsense’, and they get better the more you wear them. This is mainly down to the Goodyear Welted technique of making a shoe that we actually use.

Why are great shoes important? There’s and old army saying that goes “Always spend good money on your shoes and your bed, because if you aren’t in one you’re in the other”. Shoes are up there with music and football. They can change your mood. I think men love them because they love things that get better over time.

Who, out of history, had consistently the finest shoes? If you mean a single person, I honestly don’t know, but I did notice that when Prince Philip died and they showed millions of pictures of him, he always had great shoes including a lovely pair of suede chukkas with crepe soles. Steve McQueen is famous for his Playboys and Paul Newman nearly always wore great loafers.

Who might you have loved to make shoes for? Cary Grant. He once said, “Everybody wants to be Cary Grant, even I want to be Cary Grant.” He always looked impeccable and if he had worn my shoes, it would have meant that I was getting it right.

From history is there one shoe style you consider above others? I know you love a Royal Brogue and I do too, but my all-time favourite is the Plain 5 eyelet Derby (see Grenson Curt, above right). It’s the simplicity I love. I also love a Whole Cut, made from a single piece of leather, because it’s a real shoeman’s shoe, and the Veldschoen because only a few factories can make them.

Tell me about a few of your latest range, like the triple welted Roseberry, the Quincy covered toe sandal, the Parkers and Viktors. As usual they are all our take on classics. We started the Triple Welts a few years ago and they quickly became our best sellers, as people loved the chunkiness. They were always on the round toe to accentuate the bulkiness, but I suddenly decided to try them on a more

Grenson Curt

elegant almond toe last, and it worked really well. Quincy is a Fisherman’s sandal. It’s been around for thousands of years, so this is just our version in our hand painted leathers. Parker is a very simple, almost ordinary American-style apron derby, but Victor is a Veldschoen, first seen by British soldiers in the Boer War and made in a way that makes them waterproof.

Please explain the triple welt? It’s a way the factory came up with of almost decorating and accentuating the welt of the shoe, the part that is synonymous with British shoemaking. Instead of trying to make it disappear, we highlighted it by stepping it and wheeling notches on to it, to make it look like there are three welts instead of one.

Is the art of the great British cordwainer on the way out? No, not at all; it’s alive and kicking. British shoemaking is a bit fragile compared to 50 years ago, but the companies that are left are good enough to survive. Mind you, finding new craftsmen for the factory is very tough; kids want a faster route to the top. How does one look after shoes? Any tips? No.1 tip: don’t wear them two days running; the moisture from your feet makes the leather wet, and when it’s wet it is vulnerable. Let them dry slowly (not by a radiator). Use shoetrees and lots of leather cream; not just polish, as cream actually keeps the leather supple.

How do you think we’ll all behave and recover from the last year? I hope that everyone has realised how lucky most of us were before the pandemic, and that we decide to make the most of the future, and also to be nicer to people who are less fortunate. I hope it was all a bit of a wake-up call.

Is there any advice you can give to a young person who wants to get into designing shoes or clothes? Be inquisitive, keep your eyes open, look at everything and everyone, watch films, listen to music and get inspired by what’s around you. It’s all there, you don’t need to be taught if you keep your eyes open. n