Staring at my Christian Loubutin’s, my future was in site. 

In today’s economic downturn, I have met many who are simply down and out. Trying to find happiness while losing your job, your identity, and even sometimes the ones you love is difficult at best. Here I was, a real estate attorney out of a job. I cashed in my 401 (k) just to pay off bills.  My boyfriend, who was also laid off, was going through a downward spiral of his own causing us to separate.

I spent the last ten years building my reputation as a real estate attorney. It was what I thought I was supposed to be. I was after all intelligent and ambitious. My whole life, I prepared myself to take off in corporate America. My father, a real estate developer, would bring me into his office as a young girl and I would LOVE sitting in the meetings. While most teens had summer jobs at the park district, I was working at banks and law offices preparing myself for the life I thought I was destined for.

I grew up in an upper middle class family on the north shore of Chicago. I had an almost ideal upbringing. My mother always had milk and cookies waiting for me when I came home from school, not to mention the grilled cheese and tomato juice she made when I was sick. She was my best friend and biggest supporter. When I was a sophomore in high school, my mother developed breast cancer. After radiation and drugs, she went into remission and was free and clear of detectable cancer cells until 2003 when the cancer had reappeared. In 2006, my mother passed away. In her fight to live, she taught her three daughters not to regret a day of their life and make the most of everyday. My mother was a woman of grace and style. She epitomized class and her warm and caring nature lived on even after she passed.

At the time of my mother’s death, the universe was trying to tell me something that I was not quite ready to hear. At this point I had been practicing law in an amazing but small law firm for 7 years.   They dissolved four months after my mother’s death. Prior to my mother’s death, I was at the top of my game, thus when it was time to find a new employer, I waltzed right in to a prestigious law firm. Unfortunately, I had not fully healed from my mother’s passing. This lead to increased stress, weight gain, and alcohol abuse.  I suffer from severe depression as it is, and I just was in a tailspin. I was performing horribly at my job, but it didn’t help that a co-worker was trying to sabotage me as well. It became too much and after a year, I had to leave. I found a job as the Director of Leasing for a Shopping Center management firm. Their previous Director, who was with the company, had moved to Thailand for another employment opportunity.  At this time, the retail market had begun its downtrend.  I tried my best to implement needed changes in the company to adapt to the realities of the economy, but they were resistant to change. After a year, my predecessor had failed at his new occupation and came back to Chicago. He wanted his job and thus I was let go.

At a time when law firms were laying off people left and right and prestigious shopping center management companies were going bankrupt, my ability to find a job in my field was vastly impaired.  A good friend from law school who had become a recruiter had been constantly looking for any opportunities and there simply were none.

Working so hard for a majority of my life, I couldn’t simply sit home and twiddle my thumbs. I did some accounting for the Foundation we set up in my mother’s honor (The Renee Israel Foundation) just to have a place to go each day. Of course, since this was a not-for-profit, I was not earning any wages.  I became depressed again. I no longer believed in myself.

One day, I sat in my closet staring at my Manolo Blahniks’ and the rest of my shoes that I once wore daily as I climbed the corporate ladder and it came to me, I LOVE SHOES!!! I love everything about them.  With all my shoes, I would take them to Dearborn Shoe Repair to have sole guards placed on them to protect them from my continuous battery or to repair a heel I would inevitably wear down or break. Bill was the best cobbler in town. He even had red soles to put on my Loubutins. He was always so friendly and cheery and had been practicing his trade for over 50 years. Then it dawned on me…..

The next moment, I found myself drifting to Dearborn Shoe repair without a pair of shoes to repair but with a mission. I was going to break out of corporate USA, break out of the role that used to define me and follow my heart.

“Excuse me Bill, I have a proposition for you. “ I want you to teach me the art of cobbling and in exchange, I will work for free.” I am not sure why it was, but he called me two weeks later and said, come in.

It was Labor Day, and there I was getting an introduction to the machines. Since this was an at will relationship, I was able to use my mornings for looking for real estate work and then go in to learn from Bill. I fell head over heels (pun intended) in love with pulling out heels, sanding and repairing. Friday of that week I had previous obligations so I was not able to join Bill and I MISSED it! I cannot even express the joy I had knowing that I was actually passionate about something.  He and I talked about our future and made plans. This was a business literally untapped by women. I would be the first woman in Chicago to break into this thriving trade. I was not afraid and ready to get my hands dirty (literally).

This website will chronicle my journey learning the lost art of cobbling and the start of my future.  Watch out world, here I come. Let it begin with our first venture, an all girl shoeshine. The ladies working on your shoes will not only be well versed and attractive, but they will shine your shoes better than a majority of shoe shiners out there because they will be taught by the best.

Come to Dearborn Shoe Repair located at 1106 N. Dearborn and introduce yourself. Let me show you what a woman in a man’s world can do because I have literally walked a mile in your shoes!