Shoes, glorious shoes

Are you ready for episode # 4 of my September travelogue? I really hope you are as I've got something rather special for you in store!

It was Thursday the 4th of September and, although we woke up to sunshine, layers of grey cloud soon started appearing on the horizon. Thankfully the wind had finally calmed down, so that at least it wouldn't be tampering with the day's highs of 22°C. The weather forecast was still uncertain, though, with a promise of rain at some point during the day.

We'd exhausted most of the immediate area's wet weather options over the years and as we weren't in the mood for a repeat, we cast our nets further afield.

Our destination of choice was the industrial town of Izegem, a drive of just under an hour from our holiday cottage. If you're wondering about the appeal of this particular town, then let me introduce you to this gem of a 1930s Art Deco building, the existence of which I would have been completely unaware of if it weren't for an episode of  Belgium's version of Four in a Bed. The moment I clapped eyes on the building's magnificent façade, I knew I wanted to visit this former shoe factory turned museum.

Having consulted the museum's website, I noted that it was open from 10 am until 5.30 pm. However, it turned out that outside of the school holidays the museum was only open in the afternoons, so that upon arrival at around 11 am we found its doors firmly locked. 

Still, our attempts to gain entry had attracted the attention of one of the members of staff, who came and told us that the museum was closed. He must have seen the disappointment on our faces though, so after inquiring whether we'd come far, he decided to open up the museum just for us! We couldn't thank him and his colleague, who had to start up the museum's computer system to allow us to pay for our entrance tickets, enough. Such a lovely thing to do!

For decades, Izegem was widely known as the Belgian capital. In fact, the term Chaussure d'Iseghem (transl. shoe of Izegem) was a highly valued hallmark, the city owing much of its wealth to the shoe industry.

After having paid for our tickets, we were directed to take the lift to the top floor for a temporary exposition called Schoen. Passie (transl. Shoe. Passion), dedicated to the fascination with high-heeled shoes for women. 

 

The shoes on display here are a selection of two significant donations of private shoe collections received by the museum in 2024.

These donations, which add up to over 2500 pairs of shoes and significantly expanded the museum's collection, used to belong to Frieda Dauphin-Verhees from Antwerp and Louis Henrard from Liège. Together, they are offering an overview of more than a century of shoe fashion. 

Our heads still reeling after feasting our eyes on shelf after shelf filled with seriously drool-worthy shoes, we descended to the third floor. Here one can find an exhibition dedicated to that other industry that put Izegem on the map from the 19th century until well into the 20th century: brushes!

Dating from around 1935 and made in Birmingham rather than Izegem, this enamelled toilet set instantly caught my attention due to the similarity with a set we picked up in a UK charity shop many years ago.

Descending to the second floor where the main part of the shoe collection is housed, I was distracted by the splendour of the Art Deco interior. 

The original colour schemes of the granite floors, wall paintings and windows were meticulously restored in 2015. 

The whole floor was a photographer's delight, especially since we had the place to ourselves and didn't have to photograph around people. In fact, only Jos and one other guy insisted on being in the frame!

The guy in question (and I don't mean Jos!) was Edouard Dierick (1800-1875), the founder of the Izegem shoe industry. 

Aged 12, he started as an apprentice in his father's shoemaker's workshop. Following the sudden death of his father, Edouard took over the business. At that point, he had never made a complete shoe. Nevertheless, he managed to improve and increase production. He even invented a ruler to measure the length and width of the foot, a system that would be adopted in the United States a hundred years later.

Eduard is best known for the patent for waterproof shoes that he received from King William I. 

As a token of gratitude for receiving this patent, he presents William I with a pair of boots, of which he makes this identical replica (top left) for his store. Dating from 1830, it is made of calf's leather, hand-sewn and with delicate ornamental stitching on the heels.

In 1935, Edouard recreated his masterpiece by making a pair of boots for King Leopold I (top right), which were exhibited at the industrial exhibition in Brussels.

These shoes and boots, displayed in one of the rooms, all date from the early 1900s. Isn't that pair of tan lace-up boots the stuff of dreams? Not that I would ever be able to walk in those heels. Sadly enough, those days seem to be over ...

A replica of a shoe shop was set up in another room, where one was invited to try on the shoes displayed on the shelves. While Jos was resting his feet on a chair in the corner, I insisted on getting my money's worth by trying on the pairs in my size which appealed to me. The heels on the ones on the left were quite lethal, though. I was glad to be back in my trainers!

After this brief intermezzo, we oohed and aahed at the shoes displayed in a time-line of shoe fashion over the years. Suffice to say that there were quite a few pairs I wouldn't mind having in my collection. 

The former shoe factory in which the museum is housed was founded in 1863 by Emiel Vandommele, who was a pupil of the aforementioned Eduard Dierick. After many wanderings around Izegem, they finally ended up here in 1909 and the factory became known as Eperon d'Or.

They were proud to be certified purveyors to both the Belgian and the Luxemburg courts, as evidenced by the rather large Royal Arms on the front of the building. 

In recognition of the fact that Eperon d’Or had become the official supplier to both courts, the company made a bold statement by having an administrative front building constructed in front of the existing factory. It was designed in 1930 by Izegem architect Charles Laloo in pure Art Deco style.

Up until the Second World War, the shoes were made by hand, after which part of the process became automated. However, even when the factory finally closed down in 1967 a number  of models were still being made by hand.

Sadly, due to fierce competition, mainly from Italy and Eastern Europe, Eperon d’Or was declared bankrupt in 1967.

The above treasures were all made here and I'm sure you'll agree they are absolutely stunning.

And this is my very own pair of Eperon d'Or shoes! 

I bought them from a long-gone vintage shop about ten years ago, but only found out they were from this particular factory after we'd made plans to visit and, just out of curiosity, had a proper look at the pairs of vintage shoes which are living at the bottom of my wardrobe! 

Back on the ground floor, our visit still wasn't finished. 

Another temporary exhibition is currently running here, called Eigen Kweek (transl. Home-grown) which showcases the work of Belgian shoe designers.

The boots on the bottom right were instantly recognizable as being by Walter Van Beirendonck, while I photographed the Dries Van Noten shoes especially for Sheila. Both fashion designers were part of the famous Antwerp Six who graduated from the Antwerp Fashion Academy in 1982.

Finally, there was the factory hall at the back of the building, where, illustrated by a complete production line, one can learn how shoes were made in the 1950s as well as get acquainted with various kinds of leather, some of which I'd never even imagined existed.

All in all, our visit lasted almost two hours. Then, after purchasing some booklets about the shoe and brush industry from the museum shop, we returned to our car, ravenously eating the sandwiches we'd packed that morning.

But not before making some more photographs of that iconic building.

The building consists of a concrete skeleton finished with bricks. A striking feature of the two-storey façade is the staggered placement of the windows on the first floor. The tower on the corner contains the stairwell and is characterized by an open dome and vertical skylights.

The closing down of the factory was followed by its inevitable decline, but thankfully the front building was listed in 1999. The city of Izegem purchased the building in 2005 and opened the site as a museum in 2017.

But for how long?

Just weeks after our visit, I was scrolling through Instagram while on my way home, when a post from Eperon d'Or came up, announcing the fact that from the 1st of January 2026, it will no longer be run as a museum, and that seven members of staff are facing redundancy. 

The city council's decision came as a bolt out of the blue, and there has been a lot of protest, a petition - which obviously I signed - and a protest demonstration attended by 500 heritage enthusiasts, volunteers, and supporters last Saturday.

Will this be enough to make the city council reconsider its decision?

The forecasted rain arrived when we were on our way back to the cottage but had thankfully been chased away by sunshine and blue skies by late afternoon. 

You've already caught a glimpse of my skirt while I was trying on shoes. In fact, you've already seen me wearing it on the day of our little French adventure. The blue t-shirt with its three-quarter sleeves was charity shopped back in the mists of time, and picks up the blue flowers in the skirt's pattern perfectly.

So, that's it for now. I've still got one episode of my travelogue up my sleeve and hope you'll join me again in a couple of days' time.