D.L. Stewart: Shoe shining is becoming history

Bertha Gomez shines a customer's shoes at the Alpha Shoe Repair Corp., Friday, Feb. 3, 2023, in New York. Once a common practice, the tradition of getting a quick polish from a rag-toting shoeshine has become more of a rarity, and many stands have disappeared across the country. (AP Photo/Mary Altaffer)

Credit: AP

Credit: AP

Bertha Gomez shines a customer's shoes at the Alpha Shoe Repair Corp., Friday, Feb. 3, 2023, in New York. Once a common practice, the tradition of getting a quick polish from a rag-toting shoeshine has become more of a rarity, and many stands have disappeared across the country. (AP Photo/Mary Altaffer)

Bit by bit, the artifacts of my past are fading away.

Going, going or gone are telephones attached to kitchen walls or hanging in booths. Phonograph records and machines on which to play them. Cameras whose sole function is to take pictures and have to be loaded with film and taken to a store to be developed into photographs for mounting in albums or stuffing into grocery bags exiled to the back of a closet.

Whatever relics remain are things my grandchildren would need Google to learn what they were, what their function was and what to do with them. (Most painful for me is that I’m pretty sure none of those ingrates ever has held a newspaper, let alone read one.)

So I’m guessing they’d really be puzzled if I handed them a tin of shoe polish. But if I want to find out for sure I’ll need to hurry, because shoe polish is losing its shine.

Shinola, the first — and once the most recognizable — name in shoe polish went out of business in 1960. Now another major brand is following on its well-shined heels: Kiwi, the current international leader, stopped selling its product in Great Britain. And, it has announced, it will end the brand in the U.S. this June.

The reasons are obvious. Fewer people are wearing shoes that need shining, because tennis shoes are acceptable attire just about everywhere, including the workplace. So their roles have been reversed. Florsheims that went to the office five days a week have been kicked aside by Air Jordans that are worn seven days a week. Tennis shoes are for everyday wear and leather shoes are reserved for weddings, funerals and bar/bat mitzvahs, consigned to the same closet as neckties, suits and cuff links. No need to shine them, just dust them off and you’re good to go.

But in a time when the only men who wore tennis shoes were actual tennis players and boys wore the same leather shoes for school and play, shoe shining was expected to be done regularly. Especially on Saturday nights for those of us who would be going to church the following morning; apparently there was a scriptural warning that the pearly gates would not swing wide for little boys wearing scuffed shoes.

And there was a fixed procedure. First I needed to clean them with saddle soap. Then smear them with Shinola, which came in three basic colors, black, brown and oxblood. But before I could brush them and buff them I had to spit on them, although I never understood why.

Of course, back then I was just a kid who didn’t know spit from Shinola.

Contact this columnist at dlstew_2000@yahoo.com.

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