Our Last Winter on This Street
I’m Olivia, and this is difficult to write.
My grandparents, George and Ava, kept a small shoe shop alive through everything — wartime blackouts, winters that closed the road for days, and rent increases that never quite made sense.
Last winter, a burst pipe flooded the stockroom overnight. Leather ruined. Boxes warped. We cleaned until our hands ached, and still opened the next morning — because our regulars still needed warm, safe shoes.
Two months later, our landlord told us the building was being sold. We have to leave.
There’s no quiet way to say it. We’re packing memories between pairs, and every shelf we empty feels like saying goodbye to the street that raised us.
So we’ve put what’s left online with heavy reductions. This isn’t a marketing story — it’s simply 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 properly — wages paid, lights turned off for the last time, and a chance to start again, smaller but still ours.
If something here keeps you warm or makes each step a little easier, we’d be grateful you chose it from us.
— Olivia ❤️