You Don’t Have a Shoe Size

You don’t have a shoe size.

I know—that sounds wrong. But stick with me.

When it comes to proper shoes, especially handmade Goodyear-welted ones, “size” doesn’t really mean what people think it means. What you’re actually looking for is the right fit.

Over the years, I’ve fitted thousands of pairs of quality shoes, and one thing I always tell people is this: forget the number—focus on how the shoe fits.

Yes, you can measure your foot. Length, width, all of that. It helps. But it only gets you in the right ballpark. Your foot isn’t a block of wood—it’s a moving, slightly uneven, very individual thing.

And here’s something I see all the time…

A man walks in and asks for a size 10. We measure him, and he’s actually closer to an 8.5.

Happens constantly.

Why? I’m not entirely sure. Somewhere along the way, people started thinking they need more length when what they actually need is more width.

So what happens?

Someone who should be in a generous 8.5 G ends up in a 10 F. Then they wonder why the shoes crease badly across the vamp, don’t look as good after a few months, or even why they occasionally catch their toes on the pavement.

It’s not the shoe—it’s the fit.

So, problem solved then? Just find your “true size” and you’re done?

Not quite.

Here’s the part most people don’t realise: handmade shoes vary—a lot. Between different makers, and even within the same brand, the fit can change depending on the last. A country last will feel very different to a sleek city one.

That’s why you don’t just grab a box off the shelf because it says your usual size.

You try them. You feel them. You pay attention.

The old saying is that a good shoe should feel like a firm handshake for your foot—and honestly, that’s a pretty good way of putting it.

No pinching in the toe box.

A bit of pressure across the vamp when laced (a touch more for loafers).

A bit of support under the arch.

And no slipping at the heel.

Get those right, and you’re in a very good place.

I could go into far more detail on each of those—and I probably will in future posts.

But for now, if you’re spending anywhere from £400 to £2,000 on a pair of shoes, do yourself a favour:

Don’t buy a size.

Find your fit.

And if you’re not sure where to start, just drop me a message.