Traditional Cloth Shoes from the Old Street

Traditional Cloth Shoes from the Old Street

　　Traditional Cloth Shoes from the Old Street

　　These classic cotton-woven cloth shoes are one of the famous local specialties of Gaochun. As early as the Ming and Qing dynasties, Gaochun cloth shoes were widely renowned and exported to regions such as Suzhou, Wuxi, Changzhou, Nanjing, Zhenjiang, Yangzhou, and Anhui’s Wuhu and Xuancheng. In those days, most women did not engage in farm work and placed great importance on needlework. As a result, very few rural women couldn’t stitch shoe soles or make cloth shoes. Girls around the ages of eleven or twelve would be taught by their mothers how to cut shoe patterns, embroider designs, stitch soles, and construct uppers. A girl who couldn’t make shoes would be disliked by her mother-in-law after marriage and mocked by fellow villagers, being called a “clumsy good-for-nothing,” while those skilled were praised as “nimble and capable.”

　　During the Qing Dynasty, it was fashionable for women to bind their feet, commonly known as “three-inch golden lotuses.” This feudal practice shackled women for thousands of years. At that time, a woman’s beauty was judged by the size of her feet—the smaller, the more beautiful. This cruel custom of foot-binding, although detested by many women, had very few dissenters. Under pressure from feudal ethics, girls were forced to cry as adults tightly wrapped their tender feet layer by layer with white cloth. After years of agony, they would eventually form a “small foot.” However, crafting a suitable pair of embroidered shoes for such “three-inch golden lotuses” was no easy task. First, the fabric had to be chosen—satin, silk, or damask for the wealthier, while poorer families mostly used cotton. The color selection was also significant: unmarried girls usually wore red uppers; newlywed women who hadn’t yet given birth…

　　…often chose red or green; middle-aged women typically used purplish-red or dark green; and elderly women generally opted for black satin or black cotton. Embroidering designs on the uppers was both an art form and a key measure of a woman’s skill in shoemaking. Skilled hands produced vibrant, lifelike floral and bird patterns, while clumsy ones resulted in coarse, unattractive designs. There were many types of shoe embroidery patterns, including various flowers and plants, as well as designs like “Phoenix Playing with Peonies,” “Two Swallows Spreading Wings,” “Dragonflies Playing with Lotus,” and “Magpies on Plum Blossoms.” Designs featuring tigers, leopards, lions, oxen, horses, sheep, or portraits were rare. Stitching the soles also had its own variations, such as “Starry Sky,” “Thousand Character Grid,” “Double Happiness,” “Wave Pattern,” and “Bagua (Eight Trigrams) Pattern.” Crafting a single pair of embroidered shoes involved over 20 processes, from pattern-making to completion. Shoes for men were simpler, often with white soles and black uppers, minimal patterns, no embroidery, and less emphasis on fabric choice. More skilled women could showcase their talent mainly through sole-stitching.

　　In Gaochun folklore, it was customary for a bride’s dowry to include several pairs of single-layered and lined cloth shoes for her husband to wear year-round, as well as a pair of longevity shoes for each of her grandparents, parents-in-law, and a pair of joyous shoes for her younger uncles and aunts. She was also expected to make several pairs of “descendants’ shoes” embroidered with tiger heads for her unborn sons. As a result, girls would spend one to two years before marriage solely making shoes, often with help from their mothers, sisters-in-law, sisters, and close friends. This tradition has continued uninterrupted to this day. However, nowadays, cotton shoes have been replaced by high-end leather shoes, various sneakers, sports shoes, and travel shoes. Legend has it that the ancestor of shoe makers (commonly called cobblers) was Sun Bin, a renowned military strategist from the ancient State of Qi during China’s Warring States period, revered as the “Patron Deity of Cobblers.” His military treatise, The Art of War by Sun Bin, has been passed down to this day and is considered a masterpiece among military texts.

　　It is said that at the time, there was a man in the State of Wei named Pang Juan who was quite capable. He and Sun Bin were classmates and knew that Sun Bin was a descendant of the great Wu general Sun Wu, and had studied the ancestral “The Art of War by Sun Wu,” making him much more skilled than Pang Juan himself. Unless he got rid of Sun Bin, Pang Juan would find it hard to rise in status. So, he pretended to invite Sun Bin to work with him. However, with ill intent, Pang Juan slandered Sun Bin to King Hui of Wei, accusing him of secretly collaborating with the State of Qi. Enraged, King Hui punished Sun Bin by branding his face, cutting off his kneecaps, and imprisoning him. Sun Bin lay shivering in the cold, damp prison cell, his legs numb and feet as if plunged into an icy cave. Later, he was rescued by envoys from the State of Qi. The Qi general Tian Ji recommended Sun Bin to King Wei of Qi, who was highly impressed by Sun Bin’s military talent. In 354 BC, when Pang Juan attacked the State of Zhao under orders from King Hui of Wei, Zhao sought help from Qi. King Wei ordered Tian Ji to lead the army with Sun Bin as the military advisor to rescue Zhao, resulting in a devastating defeat for Wei’s forces. In 341 BC, when Wei again attacked the State of Han, Han also sought Qi’s aid. King Wei’s son, King Xuan of Qi, sent Tian Ji and Sun Bin to help. Using the strategy of besieging the city while attacking the relieving forces, Sun Bin defeated Wei’s army and eventually killed Pang Juan by arrows at Maling Pass.

　　Because his kneecaps had been removed, Sun Bin gradually lost sensation in his lower limbs and could no longer feel heat or cold throughout the seasons. Thus, he greatly preferred wearing leather shoes and boots. Cobblers, upon hearing that Sun Bin favored leather footwear, felt deeply honored and revered him as their “patron deity.” By the late Qing and early Republican period, there were over ten shoe shops in Chunxi Town that made and sold cloth shoes, most concentrated on the old street, plus another thirty or forty cobbler shops in the surrounding rural areas. At that time, every year on the 13th day of the ninth lunar month, cobblers would gather to hold a memorial ceremony for their patron deity. On the ceremony day, a portrait of Sun Bin would be hung in the host’s hall, along with an altar tablet. The offering table would be laid with three sacrificial animals—a pig head, a rooster, and a carp—as well as offerings like water chestnuts, lotus roots, and Chinese yams. One by one, the cobblers would burn incense, offer paper money, kowtow reverently, and worship devoutly. After the ceremony, they would dine together, drinking and sharing experiences while refining their craftsmanship. This ceremonial tradition continued until the eve of the liberation.

　　In the summer of 1953, amid the fervor of agricultural collectivization, led by master shoemaker Mei Weibing, the Chunxi Town Shoemaking Cooperative Group was established, later evolving into the Chunxi Town Shoemaking Cooperative. With the care and support of the Party and government, the shoemaking industry developed rapidly and began transitioning toward leather shoe production. Mei Weibing, being a traditional cloth shoe artisan, was unwilling to abandon his craft to switch to leather shoes, so he resigned and returned home, opening a small family-run cloth shoe shop with his wife.

　　Born in 1928 in Chunxi Town, Mei Weibing was the founder of the authentic old-brand “Mei Family Shoe Shop” on the town’s ancient street. He began apprenticing at age 12 under his uncle, Zhou Xiandong, a well-known shoemaker from the rural areas of Gaochun. After the Japanese occupied Gaochun, he took refuge in the countryside but continued making shoes to earn a living. After Japan’s surrender, he returned to Chunxi Town to open his own cloth shoe shop, manufacturing and selling shoes. For over fifty years since liberation, he never left the old street. He was deeply passionate about shoemaking, tirelessly honing his skills and dedicating his life to the craft. His exceptional craftsmanship made him a standout in the industry. The shoes he made were durable, stylish, beautifully designed, reasonably priced, and offered many benefits, such as providing comfort, preventing foot odor, avoiding corns, and not squeezing the feet. Known for his honesty and fair pricing, Mei never compromised on quality or overcharged. As a result, his business flourished. In recent years, his brand gained widespread exposure through radio, television, newspapers, and magazines. Master Mei became widely renowned, and his cloth shoes became increasingly popular with customers. Many tourists visiting Gaochun would stop by the “Mei Family Shoe Shop” to purchase various styles of cloth shoes—either for personal use, to give to their mothers, or to share with relatives and friends.

　　With the growing prosperity of the ancient town and its old street, the “Mei Family Shoe Shop” thrived even more. During the “First Nanjing Gaochun Old Street Folk Culture Festival” on May 1, 2002, the shop was bustling with customers, and its cloth shoes quickly sold out. To meet demand, Master Mei rented two storefronts on the old street and opened a new branch of the “Mei Family Shoe Shop,” enlisting the help of his son, daughter, and son-in-law to join the business of making and selling cloth shoes. The variety of shoes displayed in the shop was dazzling, becoming a beautiful highlight along the old street.