Former fashion marketer Hsing-ju Lin (林倖如) wrote a master’s thesis entitled “Stylistic Change in Women’s Footwear” at the University of Leeds and enjoys poring over books about the history of shoemaking. Lin’s interest in shoes, however, is not purely academic. Her year-old brand Liebe Hsing is dedicated to creating stylish women’s footwear while drawing attention to traditional shoemaking in Taiwan.
Once an important part of the export industry, the number of craftspeople who make shoes by hand began to decline sharply in the mid-1980s after many jobs were outsourced to China and Southeast Asia. All of Liebe Hsing’s colorful, classic designs are produced by the Juisheng Shoemaking Center (瑞晟鞋樣中心), a tiny Greater Taichung workshop run by Lu Kuang-mao (呂光茂), who has over 30 years of shoemaking experience.
Traditional shoemaking “is a part of Taiwan’s culture. I’m still a new brand, but I’ve already thought of how to bring it forward to a new generation,” says Lin, adding that her goal is to make footwear that will last for years.
Photo Courtesy of Liebe Hsing
“My challenge is creating a design that people will look at in three decades and still want to use because it looks contemporary and not outdated,” she says.
Liebe Hsing (the name is a combination of the German word for “love” and the first character of Lin’s given name) footwear, which ranges in price from NT$3,480 to NT$7,280 for a pair of lace-up boots, is designed to flatter a wide variety of body types and can be custom ordered. The back of a magenta suede lambskin sandal is carefully sculpted into a sexy curve that gracefully accentuates the wearer’s ankle, while the straps on a pair of classic Mary Jane high heels dip into a gentle “v” over the instep to create the illusion of longer legs.
Lin avoids sequins and rhinestones because the glue used to attach these embellishments damages leather. Instead, she adds visual interest with unusual color or texture combinations, thoughtfully placed seams and finishes that highlight the leather’s natural grain. Hidden details include narrow edgings around innersoles in a color that contrasts with the shoe’s exterior.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“I don’t like using a lot of bling because I think they take away from the wearer’s own light,” says Lin, who keeps inspiration scrapbooks filled with photos from fashion blogs like The Sartorialist (www.thesartorialist.com) and magazines like Elle Decor. Her frequent travels (Lin tries to go abroad once a year) also influence her designs: The sweeping lines of Stockholm sailboats and yachts inspired several sandals in her latest collection.
Lin’s emphasis on comfort and wearability is influenced in part by her mother, she says. The two women wear the same shoe size and when Lin left home to attend high school in Changhua County, she bought footwear to send back to her mother in their small hometown in Yunlin County, which only had one shoe store.
“My mom’s feet were always very delicate and she had to buy well-made shoes. She got blisters easily from fake leather, especially during the summer,” Lin says. “That’s when I started to see the difference quality makes.”
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Lin, who earned a certificate in shoemaking from the Footwear and Recreation Technology Research Institute (台中鞋技中心) in Taichung, has exacting standards for the animal skins she orders from a Taiwanese supplier: Cow leather has to be 1.2mm thick, lambskin just 0.6mm. She wears all of her shoe prototypes to make sure they are comfortable and is frank about the potential shortcomings of shoes made by hand.
Because the leather upper is hammered to the sole by hand, the join between the two parts is less uniform and sleek than one that has been pressed together by a machine. Traditional techniques, however, allow shoemakers to work with more delicate leathers like lambskin, add hand-tooled designs, and conduct thorough quality checks after each step of the manufacturing process to ensure that all components are securely fastened together.
Before agreeing to work with Lin, who at that time had little shoe design experience, Lu grilled his potential client for almost six hours about her business plans and goals.
“Shoemaking is not an easy business. It takes a lot of work, you need to understand footwear construction and if you make limited quantities, the production costs are high,” Lu said during a break at his workshop.
Lu usually works with two to four other shoemakers. On a recent day, two women carefully cut and joined leather pieces, making sure the line of stitching was just one millimeter away from the seam. Lu painstakingly hammered the body of a red lambskin high heel to its sole, steadying a heavy plastic last in his lap. On average, he says, each of the workshop’s shoemakers completes two pairs per day.
“Their skills are not in their machines, it is in their hands,” Lin says. “I want people to see the amount of detail these artists can put in each pair of shoes.”
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
If one asks Taiwanese why house prices are so high or why the nation is so built up or why certain policies cannot be carried out, one common answer is that “Taiwan is too small.” This is actually true, though not in the way people think. The National Property Administration (NPA), responsible for tracking and managing the government’s real estate assets, maintains statistics on how much land the government owns. As of the end of last year, land for official use constituted 293,655 hectares, for public use 1,732,513 hectares, for non-public use 216,972 hectares and for state enterprises 34 hectares, yielding
The March/April volume of Foreign Affairs, long a purveyor of pro-China pablum, offered up another irksome Beijing-speak on the issues and solutions for the problems vexing the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and the US: “America and China at the Edge of Ruin: A Last Chance to Step Back From the Brink” rang the provocative title, by David M. Lampton and Wang Jisi (王緝思). If one ever wants to describe what went wrong with US-PRC relations, the career of Wang Jisi is a good place to start. Wang has extensive experience in the US and the West. He was a visiting
The small platform at Duoliang Train Station in Taitung County’s Taimali Township (太麻里) served villagers from 1992 to 2006, but was eventually shut down due to lack of use. Just 10 years later, the abandoned train station had become widely known as the most beautiful station in Taiwan, and visitors were so frequent that the village had to start restricting traffic. Nowadays, Duoliang Village (多良) is known as a bit of a tourist trap, with a mandatory, albeit modest, admission fee of NT$10 giving access to a crowded lane of vendors with a mediocre view of the ocean and the trains
One of the challenges with the sheer availability of food in today’s world is that lots of us end up spending many of our waking hours eating. Whether it’s full meals, snacks or desserts, scientists have found that it’s not uncommon for us to be mindlessly grazing at some point during all of our 16 or so waking hours. The problem? As soon as this food hits the bloodstream in the form of glucose, it initiates the release of the hormone insulin. This in turn activates a switch present in every one of our cells, which is responsible for driving cell