NEW YORK, N.Y.—Eduard Shimunov, 43, said he knew what he was getting himself into when he started his shoe repair and shine business three decades ago.
He didn’t expect to make a lot of money rescuing old soles.
Rather, it was about paying the bills, providing quality service to his customers, and making a decent living in the Big Apple, which has a population of 8.3 million and is growing.
For 30 years, Mr. Shimunov ran Cobbler Express on Wall Street and in New York City’s downtown until the government shut shoeshine businesses down in March 2020 over COVID-19 fears.
It was just one more nail in the worn-out heels of the shoeshine trade, which had been in decline long before COVID-19 struck.
“Where do I see everything going?” Mr. Shimunov asked above the din of his father working with an electric shoe grinder.
“The question is, where is America going? Because if America is going in the wrong [direction], everything around us will go kaput.”
The same goes for “bootblacks,” another name for people who work in the shoeshine industry.
Once, Mr. Shimunov had three shoeshine chairs set up in his shop, and business was good—so good that there'd be a lunchtime line out the door.
Those high-volume days before the pandemic are gone, said Mr. Shimunov, who feels lucky if he gets 10 to 15 shine customers on a good day. “And good days are very seldom.”
“Back in the day, it used to be 40 shines a day,” he said.
After the pandemic, Mr. Shimunov re-opened a small shop in a big office building at 60 East 42nd St., in Midtown Manhattan, a few blocks away from the mad commuter hustle at Grand Central Terminal.
He'd been fixing and shining shoes in the downtown since 2006, and before that, he opened a storefront on Wall Street in 1999.
“I definitely like Midtown better than downtown. This is easier to get to,” said Mr. Shimunov, whose family emigrated to the United States from Uzbekistan in search of a better life in 1993.
Still, he enjoyed working with the Wall Street crowd, fixing expensive shoes, polishing top-notch leather, and rubbing elbows with the city’s financial power players.
It takes a bit of searching to find his new location, which he says can be a deterrent to new customers.
Once you pass through the glass doors of the office tower and traverse a pair of long gilded corridors, eventually you'll see his shop tucked away near the very end on the ground floor.
He admitted that working in shoe repair and shine can be “boring” at times as he waited for the next customer to walk in the door.
By the illustrated wall to the right was the shop’s lone shoeshine stand, a simple square wooden base with a black leather seat cushion.
Mr. Shimunov stared at the empty stand from behind the front counter, remembering busier days.
“Today, I haven’t had a shine. It’s a rainy day. You would expect a shoeshine as a miracle,” he said.
“Yesterday, it was a grey day. We had a few shines.”
Once there was time when shoe polish stands were in ample supply in Manhattan and other cities across the United States—anywhere people gathered in numbers: bus stations, airports, train terminals, and busy street corners.
Famous shoeshiners in their youth included the late James Brown, better known as “The Godfather of Soul,” Rod Blagojevich, former governor of Illinois, and Sammy Sosa, former Dominican baseball player for the Chicago Cubs.
In 1868, American author Horatio Alger wrote about the struggles of the nation’s impoverished in “Ragged Dick,” about a shoeshine boy who earns his way to success.
Today only a few shoeshine stands remain in Grand Central Terminal and Penn Station in Midtown Manhattan, beneath Madison Square Garden.
On the lower level in Grand Central is the Leather Spa, an open-air shoeshine business with four empty chairs and three eager employees who were busy cleaning equipment and shoes customers left behind for pickup.
“Those were the days,” said a man in a business suit with shoes that didn’t need polishing. “Everyone’s wearing sneakers now.”
Outside the busy terminal on 42nd Street, an elderly man sat in a folding chair selling umbrellas in the drizzling rain.
Behind him was the shoeshine stand its owner had covered in a plastic tarp before going home for the day.
“Rainy days, you don’t come to shine shoes,” the elderly man said.
In the Mile High City of Denver nearly 2,000 miles west, five shoe shine stands that operated at Denver International Airport (DEN) before the pandemic continue to serve customers.
“As DEN recovered from the pandemic, we reduced operating hours to meet the reduced passenger demand. No locations were permanently closed,” according to the DEN Media Team.
“To date, we have been flexible with operating hours but are now essentially back to pre-COVID operating hours with the majority of the stands.”
Mr. Shimunov said lower wages are another reason for the slow demise of independent shoeshine stands even though prices have increased.
He said a shoeshine that used to cost $3 is now $8 or more, and that doesn’t include the tip.
ZipRecruiter.com, a U.S. marketplace for job seekers, reported that as of April 27, 2024, the average hourly pay for a shoeshiner in New York City was $15.42. The minimum wage is $16.
“While ZipRecruiter is seeing salaries as high as $29.17 and as low as $6.04, the majority of salaries within the shoeshine jobs category currently range between $9.46 to $17.61.
“Based on recent job posting activity on ZipRecruiter, the Shoe Shine job market in New York City is not very active as few companies are currently hiring.”
Mr. Shimunov blames the shrinking demand for independent shoe shiners in part on cheap disposable synthetic and leather footwear made overseas.
The pandemic exacerbated the trend by putting many bootblacks out of business during the government-ordered shutdown.
“I wouldn’t push anyone into a trade like this when there are different trades that make money,” he said. “I also feel a lot of people think running after a degree is not a thing these days.”
Those shoeshiners in Manhattan who survived the pandemic have yet to rebound from the closure of office buildings and people working from home, he said.
Some businesses that arose during the pandemic, like Mobile Shoe Shine Co. in Phoenix, Arizona, turned medical adversity into financial opportunity by taking the workshop to home-bound customers in a fully equipped van.
“It’s not like it’s totally dead,” Mr. Shimunov said of independent shoeshine stands.
“Twenty years ago, people thought shoeshine would be dead. But then you had the name brands like Gucci and Prada. There'll always be something. As long as you have things that are leather, I can service them.”
“It’s obviously a lot less than it used to be when it comes to shoeshine. A lot of people are wearing synthetics—but again, there are also pricey sneakers, and those need service. So they come for that type of service.”
Mr. Shimunov said he isn’t looking to “make millions” shining and repairing footwear. All he wants is to earn enough to meet his expenses and survive for another season. And that takes a steady flow of foot traffic.
“Good morning! How are you? What’s up?” Mr. Shimunov said to the young woman in the damp raincoat as she walked into the shop and up to the front counter.
She handed him a pair of ladies’ dress shoes she needed to be inspected and repaired.
“So, these are my wedding shoes for the reception,” the woman said, wondering if the gold pair best matched her white dress compared with the silver. “I don’t want to ruin them.”
Mr. Shimunov told her not to worry. “I love it,” he said. “So, do you want to put on the sole guards?”
“Yes,” the woman said.
“You’re picking up later, right?”
“Yes—3:30?”
“That would be fine.”
Mr. Shimunov said that shining shoes alone is a challenge in the present economy.
Fortunately, his shop’s repair side picks up the slack.
“My main thing is shoe repair. There is an additional service if, by the way, I need a shoeshine. Otherwise, I’m not screaming about it,” he said.
He said January was a busy month as people came in wanting to look their best in the new year.
He hopes business will increase as more people return to the office buildings.
Like millions of immigrants before him, Mr. Shimunov believes the city’s resiliency in bad times comes from the strength of its people.
Whether a Wall Street executive or everyday commuter, there is always a pair of shoes—or brand-name sneakers—that needs cleaning.
“New York City has its ups and downs,” Mr. Shimunov said. “It’s not the first time. We always hope to get out of it.
“It all depends on the people who choose the politicians.”
