I’m Olivia, and this is hard to write.

My grandparents, George & Ava, kept a small shoe shop going through everything: blackouts, snow that closed the road for days, rent rises that made no sense. Last winter, a burst pipe flooded the stockroom overnight. Leather ruined. Boxes warped. We cleaned until our hands ached, and opened the next morning anyway—because regulars still needed warm, safe shoes.

Two months later, our landlord told us the building was being sold. We have to leave. There isn’t a quiet way to say it. We’re packing memories between pairs, and every shelf we empty feels like a goodbye to the street that raised us.

So we’ve put what’s left online with heavy reductions. Not a marketing trick—just the truth of a family closing a door with dignity. If you’ve ever walked past a small shop and thought “I’ll pop in next time,” this is our last winter to be that shop.

Every order helps us finish well: wages paid, lights off properly, and a path to restart, smaller but still ours. If something here keeps you warm or eases your step, we’d be grateful you chose it from us.

Olivia ❤️