‘CLOSING OF A MILESTONE’
Tony Shoes was an institution
No sooner did Tony Fargnoli open his shop Monday morning, he noticed his voice mail was overloaded. Upon checking his computer, he was stunned to learn a message he left on Facebook Sunday already had over 35,000 shares.
The message was a brief mention that after 83 years, Tony Shoes on Greene Ave. was closing. The voice mails were from longtime customers, devastated by the news.
“I honestly didn’t expect anything like this,” said Fargnoli, while preparing for a four-day liquidation sale beginning Thursday.
He should have. Tony is a landmark in a city that is and will be losing many of its iconic businesses.
It’s the end of an era for what started as a shoe-repair shop in 1937 by Fargnoli’s newly arrived
Italian immigrant grandfather and later became a heel-hub for many of this city’s most storied politicians, athletes and celebs, as well as for generations of regular folk who loved its mom-andpop shop intimacy.
The Trudeaus and Mulroneys were regulars, sometimes even at the same time. Céline Dion and André-philippe Gagnon popped in, as did members of the Habs, Alouettes and Expos.
Jennifer Cukier summed up the sentiments of many: “I’m so sad and emotional. I brought my children and my grandchildren here. You were so kind. It’s the closing of a milestone.”
“Just know how many people and how many feet you made happy over the years,” Nancy Cummings related.
Fargnoli, along with his life/ business partner Kathie, recently turned 65. By way of explaining that this much attention to the job can take its toll, Fargnoli allowed that his grandfather, Tony, died at 67 and his dad, “Fireball” Eddie, at 58. Fargnoli has been at the trade 47 years, often working seven days a week.
“We’ve all had our health issues,” he said. “I’ve been fortunate, but I want to go out on my terms. But the way things are moving these days, who knows what’s going to be.”
COVID -19 didn’t help. Tony was closed for three months.
“That was devastating for business,” Fargnoli said. “Even with social distancing and sanitary measures now, people — especially those with health issues — are frightened and reluctant to come in like they used to. The new normal is not normal.”
Like many others, Fargnoli noted that when government grants cease, retail businesses will be forced to raise prices to cover protective equipment and labour costs.
“We’ve been spending two hours a day before opening in cleaning,” he said. “There’s preparation and added costs like never before, and the consumer doesn’t want to know about that.”
While conceding that surviving as a mom-and-pop shop these days has its “stresses,” Fargnoli added it had its benefits, too.
“It’s like reality TV,” he said. “You have a feel for the people. That’s what I’ll miss most, the people. You really get involved with the lives of so many. You bleed with them and celebrate with them.
“This isn’t a sad story. It’s really a celebration. It’s about immigrants arriving with little and building a business that three generations of our family were able to live off.”
Fargnoli’s grandfather started repairing shoes only, but morphed into a shoemaker and later started carrying other brands to sell when Eddy became involved in the 1950s. Shoe repairs continued until 1982.
In the ’50s, Tony also became known for skate repairs and sharpening for amateurs as well as pros like the Canadiens. Tony was also selling hockey sticks, baseball bats and gloves.
“We even sold dog leashes,” said Fargnoli, a star goalie in his younger years. “Whatever a customer asked for, my father tried to stock — even jockstraps at one point. So many memories.”
One of his favourite was a visit from then prime minister Jean Chrétien.
“I asked why he never had bodyguards,” Fargnoli recalled. “He said: ‘I’ll show you.’ Then suddenly he grabbed me by the throat and said: ‘That’s why.’
“I guess that’s why they called him the Shawinigan Choker,” Fargnoli cracked.
“But retail life will never be what it once was. What’s to come will be radically different: really shaken, not stirred.”