Nightmare Shoe Shopping in Asia

Men with size 12 feet will find shoe shopping in East Asia to be an incredibly frustrating experience. Trust me, I know! In fact, “frustrating” is surely an understatement in China where I soon found myself wishing for a return of foot-binding just so I could get my big dogs into a pair of shoes. I first noticed the problem in Hong Kong soon after I arrived here in September when I needed a pair of shoes to take part in the regular Swire Hall High Table Dinners here at the University. Wearing my sneakers with dressy pants and a shirt and tie doesn't cut it around here where there appears to be an unwritten rule about what one wears in a (semi)formal situation: black suit, black shoes, black tie and white shirt. This uniform is the same for women and girls except they substitute a black skirt for black pants. EVERYONE at the University dresses like this when they can find any occasion to look important – it is the symbol of the Hong Kong business community (i.e., HK culture in general). Thus, my loud blue tie, blue dress shirt, black dress pants (at least a start), white socks and New Balance runners left me the subject of poorly-hidden Cantonese ridicule among local students.

Thus, I eventually slipped out to Mong Kok, searched for just the shoes I wanted (a great selection by the way) only to find questioning looks when I asked for my size. Size 10 (US) is the largest any shops keep in stock. Occasionally, a shopkeeper would excitedly run in the back and produce a dusty box (clearly the only pair ever to arrive in that size) containing a ridiculous pair of shoes that looked nothing like the pair I wanted to try on! I told my problem to one of my Teaching Assistants who told me to try the SOGO Department store SOGO is a large Japanese department store that resembles a swanky version of The Bay and many foreigners shop there – so it seemed like a good idea to me. I went and immediately found the exact shoes I wanted in Mong Kok in my size and for a cheaper price. Those babies were the slippery Doc Martens that almost sent me tumbling to my death off the Great Wall of China…stylish, but deadly.

My next need for shoes came in China when the sole of my New Balance runner started breaking apart, which is why I didn't wear them hiking along the snowy Wall. During our time in Pingyao I got an old woman on the side of a street to mend the sole for me. The nails held the sole together, but the woman’s archaic technique of hammering – literally – a piece of rubber to the sole of my shoe made for some pretty uncomfortable walking. Surprisingly, Jill and I eventually found some very slick sports stores in several Chinese cities like Xi'an, Chengdu, and Kunming. These stores sported all the popular brands of shoes but, alas, all I found was staff who snickered at my giant feet – which really aren’t that big by Western standards. There was a dusty box episode in Chengdu that I actually considered but I ultimately decided to wait for Hong Kong as they were a truly ugly pair and money’s tight. I continued to go in to various sports stores in China asking if they had anything in the store in my size – it became a sort of game 'cause I knew they would have nothing.

Two days ago I finally made it back to the SOGO Department store knowing it to be the only place in Asia that I can actually buy footwear. I found the type of shoe I wanted (hybrid hiker/sneaker sort of thing) in the New Balance section and was promptly told that they didn't have my size…in anything! In the Adidas department I got the same response. Nike had a pair that were way too expensive – and they were ugly to boot. At the suggestion of the staff I visited a New Balance store in Times Square that had two pairs of shoes in my size. Neither were great but one was alright…not my first choice (or second or third), but not bad. I bought them and left. Almost immediately after I laid out the cash for the shoes I found a Timberland store hosting a 50% off sale with the exact shoes I wanted in my size and for way cheaper than the ones I had just bought! Of course, the shoes I had just bought had a “no refund” policy and my limited budged meant that two pairs was out of the question. After about ten minutes of haggling with the staff of the New Balance store to give me a refund – I pleaded my case as someone with a deformity who is marginalized in Chinese society because of my huge feet. They finally – reluctantly – gave in. I got the shoes I wanted and the two of us caught the tram for home. I was immensely relieved that my long search was finally over.

We got off at the Star Ferry terminal in Central so that Jill could catch the ferry back to Chungking Mansions in Kowloon. As we walked towards the ferry entrance, I felt like I was forgetting something. Then, it dawned on me. I had left my new shoes on the tram. After a month of searching for shoes I had found the perfect pair only to let them roll off into a city of seven million people. I freaked out and started running after the tram which was headed towards the Western District. I quickly realized I would never catch it and started searching for a taxi – this can be difficult business at rush hour in Central HK. I was so intent on getting those shoes I think I lost my mind a bit. I managed to get quite a bit of attention because shouting expletives in public is simply not a part of Chinese culture. Jill managed to chill me out and we continued our cab search. Finally, we found one and even managed to score a taxi driver that could speak a bit of English – a surprisingly uncommon phenomenon.

I explained to him that there was a package on a tram and that I needed him to chase after it. I felt like I was a cop in a movie trying to catch a trolley with a bomb on it or something. The driver thought the whole business was hilarious and he happily complied by speeding through the streets to intercept the tram. He really got into it. Luckily, in that area the tram line only follows one route so the place of intercept wasn't hard to find. However, one tram turns around and we didn’t know which one we were on or even what the driver looked like. Because you enter the tram from the rear and exit to the front as you drop your coins in the box, you never actually see the driver unless you make an effort to do so. The driver went so fast that we easily overshot the tram we were on. We got out at a tram stop and waited. The first tram came and Jill had to stand in front to keep the driver from driving away. Without speaking Cantonese it would have been impossible to explain that I needed him to wait while I ran up to the second floor to see if my package was there. Since you pay when you exit, he would have simply driven away when I jumped on. Tram one: no package. The same routine occurred for the second tram. No package…my spirit sank. The third tram arrived. I scrambled up the stairs and found my lonely box of shoes sitting right where I had left them. After all, given the small foot size among Chinese what would anyone be able to do with them if they wanted to take them?

I'm wearing them as I write. They're comfortable. Moral of the story: if you have big feet, buy your shoes before coming to Asia! I have the upcoming week off school due to the celebration of the Chinese Lunar New Year. Jill and I are hopping on a plane to spend the time in the Philippines. I can’t wait for the sun and sand. Happy Year of the Rooster!

A.