However, there used to be a time when “Belgium” would have immediately sprung to mind. As once the textile industry flourished within our borders, so did shoe production. Unfortunately, both industries met the same fate during the 20th century, as they couldn’t possibly compete with the cheap alternatives offered by Asia and Eastern Europe.

In the 19th century, most of the shoe production in Belgium took place in West Flanders, with more than 40% centred in Izegem, about 12 kilometres southwest of Kortrijk. As early as the 18th century, this region was renowned for its superb craftsmanship and innovative shoe design. From all over Europe, members of royal families came here to order a unique pair of shoes. Business was thriving, and many of the smaller ateliers grew into large factories, giving birth to an entire industry.

By the mid-20th century, competition started coming from Italy but also from China and from low-wage countries in Eastern Europe. Belgian producers were faced with an impossible dilemma: stay true to their identity and keep making expensive, highquality shoes, while making less and less money, or switch to mass production.

Most of them chose the second option but failed miserably at gaining an advantage on the competition, as their methods of production were not suited to their new mission.

Of the 600 producers that were active in Izegem, only one is still in business today. Mareno is one of the three remaining Belgian shoe producers, which are all located in Flanders: Bonne Shoe in Waarschoot and Ambiorix in Tongeren are the other two.

All three are still around because they stuck with their original strengths: making highend, quality shoes. Gradually, these three resilient companies made a niche for themselves, offering something no country in Eastern Europe or China could reproduce quickly or cheaply.

But the competition remains tough, as Belgians are at a significant disadvantage because of strict regulations in Europe. For example, they can’t use substances (such as glue) that can be unhealthy, so they have to use more expensive alternatives. Yet Chinese factories can import their products into Europe without any regard for these same regulations.

Considering these economic difficulties and adding in the lack of a formal education in Flanders for aspiring shoe designers, you’d think there would be no innovation in shoe design left here at all. Fortunately, that’s not entirely true. At least three Flemish women have made their passion into their full-time job, with a little creativity and a lot of entrepreneurial spirit.

Ellen Verbeek started off with a collection of handbags, because she couldn’t find a proper course in shoe design in Belgium. But refusing to let go of her interest, she travelled south and spent some time at a little Italian factory, watching and learning. She launched her own shoe collection in 2005.

Nathalie Verlinden learned how to sculpt at Sint-Lucas art school in Ghent, then took a course in Brussels at Brucemo, which taught her the technical side of cobblery. Additionally, she took a few courses in the ateliers of secondary school Stella Maris in Antwerp.

So did Els Proost, who originally started out at the fashion department of the Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp, but eventually ended up in the ateliers of famed Flemish designer Dries Van Noten and other worldrenowned fashion houses, where she helped design shoe collections. She opened up her own shoe shop, Elsa, in Antwerp, and launched a shoe collection under the same name.

If these three women had only today decided they wanted to design shoes, they would have had it a lot easier. About five years ago, shoe and handbag designer Anne Poesen was recruited to teach the first Belgian course for shoe design at the Academy for Fine Arts in Sint-Niklaas. Poesen received her education in civil engineering and architecture at the Catholic University of Leuven, after which she enrolled in the Footwear Modelist Degree course at the Ars Arpel Institute in Milan. In Sint-Niklaas, she has moulded the shoe design course into exactly what was missing in Belgium: combining creative stimulation with technical knowledge.

Though a little help from outside is still a necessary ingredient in all three of the designers’ businesses. “I tried to produce my collection in Belgium,” says Verlinden, “but there just aren’t enough factories anymore. I don’t think the shoe industry will ever return to Belgium – not if you see how hard it’s become to compete.”

If you can’t beat them, you have to join them – but the Belgians are keeping their identity intact this time around. Asked what sets Belgian shoes apart from the rest, Verlinden answers: “Belgian style is lauded for its quality. We work with good materials and an eye for detail.”

“The Belgian look is powerful and very innovative,” adds Verbeek. It turns out the shoe industry really did follow in the textile industry’s footsteps: production in Flanders has been all but quelled, but the world still looks to the region for state-ofthe- art creativity.