Secondly there
is a huge MaliMali disaster in London: the sandals Adama and I worked on for more
than two weeks in Bamako have been
rejected by the smart Kensington shop that
ordered them as not being good enough. I have had to return the money and
thirty pairs of sandals are sitting in London. I bear the lady of the shop no grudges, but am of course sorry about what was clearly a misundertanding and a case of misplaced expectations. We worked extremely hard on
these shoes and spent a lot of money getting them produced and sent. I think
they are lovely. However, it is not Gucci quality clearly, and certain rough
edges are unavoidable if you work with a local cobbler at the Artisanat of
Bamako.
4 Comments:
But what does this really signify, this Gucci quality? I suppose I know, but somehow I think there is something not right in a world that doesn't value a beautiful, handmade shoe crafted with such loving care. There is more to this shoe than any other shoe can offer. There is, with this shoe, a resonant, durable connection with remarkable people in a remarkable place.
you are as always kind and see the positive side, Susan!
I suppose I have lived in Africa for a long time now, and although I insist on things being well made, I guess I have ceased to expect perfection. This story is forcing me to rethink the feasibility, ultimately, of producing items for export here.
That is a great injustice that the jewel-coloured sandals of Mali Mali have been deemed unsuitable for fhe pedicured feet of West London ladies. We should mourn their loss of opportunity to show off their Nars nail polish to suitable effect.
Trying to think of a suitably interesting shop that might want them...
Claire,
I am putting up a picture just now on the blog of the sandals and on Facebook soon. I may try and arrange a sale somehow in London.If people scroll in on the picture they will see the stiching quality, which was the main problem I believe.
Post a Comment
<< Home