TANN visits bespoke shoemaker Korbinian Ludwig Heß

“I don’t believe in rituals.”

The weather can’t decide. Crows sit above the street, calling it as it is. Snow melts into dark edges along the pavement, and small stones crackle underfoot on the way to the atelier.

The door opens.

Inside, the air shifts. Leather, care products, and something unfamiliar, unnamed, unplaceable. The smell of work.

A conversation with bespoke shoemaker Korbinian Ludwig Heß.

TANN:
We know you. Many people do. But still – who are you, and what happens here?

Korbinian Ludwig Heß:
We make bespoke shoes. But not just any bespoke shoes. We take the idea to an extreme. Everything is made by hand. No electric machines. No catalogue, no models to choose from. There is no beginning that isn’t individual and no end that isn’t specific to one person. From the last design to the shoe itself one hundred percent custom.

I’ve been doing this here with my team since 2017.

TANN:
And who comes to you?

Korbinian:
It’s very mixed. Still mostly men – maybe seventy percent – but more and more women, especially with cowboy boots and less classical styles.

And socially? Everything. Truly everything. We sometimes have to pull down the blinds because certain people don’t want to be seen. And the next client arrives by bike or subway. From the wealthiest people you can imagine to students in their twenties.

I had a student recently who pays in monthly instalments. Directly to us, not to a bank. I like that. Supporting obsession.

TANN:
So there’s no single “type” of customer?

Korbinian:
No. But there are patterns.
Some people know nothing about shoes, but they work in environments where it’s expected that they look a certain way. They don’t want to think about it. They come once, we talk for a long time, I understand who they are, and from then on they just text me.

“Black shoes. Smooth leather. You know what to do.”

And I do.

Others arrive because their partner, their parents, someone sent them. Then we start slowly. I ask a lot of questions. What do you do? Where do you go? What do you actually want?

Most people already know the answer. They just don’t know that they know.

TANN:
You’re deeply rooted in classic menswear – but you also seem bored by it.

Korbinian:
I know all the rules. I can explain them, I can follow them, and sometimes I do. Dress codes don’t scare me.

But men are incredibly anxious about clothing. Terrified.
Is this brown or already red? Because red would be unacceptable.

At some point I just think: do you like the colour or not?

Classic menswear has its place. But if everything becomes rigid, nothing moves anymore. I like when it opens up. Cowboy boots. Unusual shapes. Something that makes people slightly uncomfortable.

TANN:
What does a typical day look like for you?

Korbinian:
There isn’t one.

Orders come in waves. Suddenly everyone calls. Appointments pile up. Measurements, fittings, conversations. Then it goes quiet again.

A lot of work happens before anything that looks like shoemaking. Lasts, sole models, planning. And yes, there’s also the laptop, even if I’d prefer not to look at it.

But when I actually work here – really work – I come in, maybe drink a coffee, maybe not, and start.

TANN:
Do you have rituals that carry you through the day?

Korbinian:
Honestly? I don’t like rituals.

I think rituals give security. Too much security makes you rigid. I try to break patterns when I notice them forming. My team hates me for that.

Of course I have habits – eating, sleeping, that kind of thing. But intentional rituals? I avoid them.

Men especially like to ritualise things. Beard care. Shoe care. I did that too when I was younger. Oils, combs, ceremonies. Now I look back and think: I don’t want to be that guy anymore.

TANN:
And yet your work is extremely repetitive.

Korbinian:
Yes and no.

The process is always similar. But I try to stay alert to when it becomes mechanical. Especially with lasts. That’s my responsibility.

Lasts define everything: fit, shape, character. I work very intuitively there. I carry the person in my head while shaping the last. At some point there’s a moment where I see them in it.

TANN:
Where do aprons come into all of this?

Korbinian:
We always wear aprons. For protection, yes, but also because we work with the shoe on our lap. Shoes never go on tables. Ever.

The apron keeps the shoe from slipping, from falling, from being damaged. And of course it protects clothing. Even though I still manage to destroy my trousers.

There’s a traditional shoemaker’s apron, longer, different cut.

But, I just get mine from a local shop. I think they are meant to be worn by waiter rather than a shoemaker. But they do the job.

TANN:
Looking ahead – do you want to change anything?

Korbinian:
Not fundamentally.

I get bored quickly. When things stay the same for too long, I want to break them and rebuild. That’s why I sometimes branch out: shirts, trousers, new projects.

We’re also doing more trunk shows. Zurich, hopefully Paris, New York, maybe LA. People come from all over the world already, but going to them matters too.

I don’t want growth for growth’s sake. I want movement.