SOLE REVIVER
Shoe shines: Not just for fancy footwear anymore! A new service promises to spiff up sneakers
A department store in Midtown may not seem like an obvious draw for the city’s hipper-than-thou sneaker heads. But the savvy ones make their way down to the subterranean shoe department of recently opened Nordstrom on 57th Street, past a display of freshly released kicks, to a two-chair shoeshine stand in a far corner.
That’s where Kevin Tuohy, an expert shoeshiner, has set up shop detailing sneakers at a cost of $7 per pair. He’ll scrub the laces too, for no extra charge.
In 1996, Tuohy saw a rise in loafer-loving clients bringing him beloved pairs of leather basketball shoes. As sneakers have become more and more popular, he’s carved out a special footwear-maintenance niche for himself.
“I get basically everyone from young sneaker heads wanting to maintain their favorite kicks to everyday businessmen,” says Tuohy, 50. He cleans “over 30 pairs a week.”
Tuohy says sneakers by Balenciaga and Christian Louboutin are his favorites to tidy up — although detailing the latter can get tricky.
“Louboutins with spikes [on top, up front] are the coolest,” he says. “But cleaning between the spikes, without loosening any of them, and doing it right, can be a challenge.”
On a recent weekday, Tuohy — sporting a pretty nice set of old-school, shell-toed Adidas Superstars — spiffs up a pair of Nike Air Jordan 1’s worn by 21-year-old Euric Reyes.
“Each day, I base my outfit on the sneakers I’m wearing,” says Reyes, who lives in Harlem and collects sneakers, making his living by dealing rare pairs on Instagram.
Reyes says that if they were “dead inventory” — sneaker speak for collectibles that have never been worn — his Nikes, a limited-edition release from a Fragment Design collaboration, could fetch $3,000. But because his (which he paid $900 for) have hit the streets, “these would go for around $1,500,” he says. Part of the reason for the price chop has to do with scuff marks on a black strip of leather upfront. “I scratched them on my bike,” he says. “That hurt me a lot.” Tuohy focuses on the area just above the soles of Reyes’ sneaks. “The white edge that wraps around the bottom is the dirtiest part,” he says. “When I get that clean, it makes me happy.” Then, for a final touch, he reaches for a Bic lighter and flicks on the flame. Getting perilously close to the precious footwear, he starts burning off any loose strands of stitching on the ankle of the sneaker.
“I’ve heard about this move,” Reyes says. “But I’ve never done it myself.”
Is he nervous? “I trust Kevin. He knows what he’s doing.”
Then, Tuohy gives the scuffed strip a second look. He reaches for a small container of black polish and retouches it with the finesse of a body-shop man restoring a dinged Bentley.
Reyes glances down and looks pleased. Descending from the sneaker-shine chair, he says happily, “I think I can get $1,800 for these now.”