I always look forward to this time of the year because I can finally pull out my winter wardrobe and give it an airing before I mothball it away in a couple of months. This year, though, I was dejected to find that my favourite pair of black suede boots had lost their soles. After my initial disappointment, I told myself not to be so silly. I could always find a good cobbler who would re-sole them and then I would get another few years’ wear out of them.
Well, easier said than done. I looked high and low in my neighbourhood, then extended the search further outward, but I couldn’t find a single cobbler who could repair my boots. I even ventured into slightly upmarket shoe stores to ask if they could do the repair – or at least suggest someone who could – but with no luck. Repairing soles, apparently, was now a lost art. Or at the very least, not worth the bother.
I guess I should have known better. Sadly, we seem to live in an age of disposable fashion – in fact, disposable everything. So, if a dress gets a tear then you are meant to throw it away. Socks with a hole are not darned but discarded. If the steam iron stops working for some reason, it is easier to just go out and buy another rather than find someone to fix it. Glass bottles of Coke or Limca are just thrown into the garbage rather than sent back to the shop for recycling.
What a pity that is! Growing up, I was surrounded by a culture in which make do and mend, recycle and reuse were not just empty slogans but mantras that we actually lived by. School shoes were mended if they broke until you finally grew out of them. Cold drink bottles were carefully stored after we finished and returned to the store to get the deposit back. If clothes got too worn out they would be repurposed as dusters or sewn together with an elegant kantha stitch to make bedcovers or dohars. And every plastic bottle or container that came in was used to store everything from spices in the kitchen to extra buttons and threads in each colour to repair clothes.
{{/usCountry}}What a pity that is! Growing up, I was surrounded by a culture in which make do and mend, recycle and reuse were not just empty slogans but mantras that we actually lived by. School shoes were mended if they broke until you finally grew out of them. Cold drink bottles were carefully stored after we finished and returned to the store to get the deposit back. If clothes got too worn out they would be repurposed as dusters or sewn together with an elegant kantha stitch to make bedcovers or dohars. And every plastic bottle or container that came in was used to store everything from spices in the kitchen to extra buttons and threads in each colour to repair clothes.
{{/usCountry}}Those days are long gone. Now, we live in a culture that treats everything as disposable. The durrie in your living room has unravelled? Don’t bother with repairing it; just chuck it out and get another. Your cashmere sweater had a hole in it? Never mind about doing a spot of ‘raffoo’; just get rid of it and buy a replacement. Your favourite boots have lost their soles? Never mind trying to fix them; just throw them out…
Well, hang on a minute. I am not so sure that I want to go down that path. As far as my boots go, I haven’t given up hope as yet. I am still holding out for a miracle worker who can fix what is essentially a minor problem, and return them to a state in which I can enjoy them for another decade.
After all, these boots were made for walking; and I am not ready to walk away from them just yet.
From HT Brunch, January 25, 2025
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