Wednesday, November 19, 2008

A peach of a cobbler

One of the first shopkeepers I befriended in the city was Arty. Don't even know his last name, after bringing my scarps to his cobblery for 6 years. On Eighth (cuz I rarely stray from Eighth Avenue), between 22nd and 23rd.

This guy is the Hephaestus of heels. Brooklyn-born, he looks like Turtle from HBO's Entourage. Always attired in the latest hip-hoppery...designer sneaks, tees and plenty of bling...he's a mercurial, moody artiste who likes to have his ass kissed. His mostly-Russian crew...the double Yuris, JC and dad Dave (who started the business and makes regular cameos, reclaiming his much-deserved limelight) toil in a tiny, cluttered space from 8-8 every day except Sunday. And his fame is inversely proportioned to the size of the shop; he's all over Google, been covered in tons of fashion mags, and is a byword amongst shoe labels, models and intelligensia. Don't even try to put an order in during Fashion Week. NYC and Atlanta hi-end retailer Jeffrey's is a devotee.

Miraculously restored a pair of Luccese cowboy boots for me. Bags, belts, leather pants, Arty does it all, from minor repairs to complete reconstruction. Choos to Pradas to Blahniks to Louboutins.

A little on the pricey side, cash only, pretty girls get coffee and discounts. Tip: heel and toe taps will extend the life of your footwear indefinitely.

Arty's Shoe Service
243 8th Ave
New York, NY 10011
(212) 255-1451
No website. No email. No kidding. The only recession-defiant biz on the block that's thriving in this economy.
Classic Cuban Cigars

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