If the shoe fits…

Andrew Mathieson
INSIDE a modest, sometimes musty and unlit backroom on Ryrie Street is where shoe repairer Ken Plank feels most comfortable.
The Sweeney’s store has been his sanctuary from a raft of changes to the nearby city landscape for just on six decades.
His welltattered green apron, marked with glue and paint specks, has hundreds of stories to tell.
So does the workbench, indistinguishable from its original state, covered in chips and stuckon leather cuttings.
Ken can wind back the memory on a shopfront that has stood at the same location for the past 82 years.
“That’s going by what Arthur Anderson said, who worked here from the start and he’s 95 now, well, he was a 14yearold when it opened,” Ken explains.
Ken was 16 when he stumbled into a prolonged sixyear apprenticeship back in 1953.
“They staggered it over a long time because they wouldn’t want to give you full wages for a while,” he reckons.
Nothing has changed much, except the name. An advertising consultant advised Sweeney’s about three decades ago to connect with the customer better and Mr Shoe Repair was born.
But Ken, a traditionalist at heart, still answers the phone to Sweeney’s services.
“I find that easier to go by,” he grins.
“Sweeney’s name has been here for a while – nearly since the turn of last century – so we’ve kept that name going.”
The shoe repair business was booming in the 1960s, Ken recalls.
Footwear was all leather back then.
Sweeney’s also employed at least 15 people.
Now only Ken is left.
“Back then everyone got shoes repaired,” he says.
“You only had two pairs of shoes – a pair to wear every day and what you called your good shoes, so you really had took after them.”
A former colleague, Mario Profaca, still pops in today.
Mario retired nearly nine years ago but gives a helping hand during busy times.
He suggests Ken should have gotten a watch for his years of loyal service.
Ken just chuckles.
“I never got the gold watch, did I,” he responds.
“Some buggers got a gold watch from Sweeney’s but I didn’t get one.”
They both laugh some more.
Overworked and underappreciated perhaps, Ken once held two parttime jobs to make ends meet.
He sometimes worked 16hour days.
A career change beckoned a decade later.
“I went for a job in real estate when I was 49,” he tells.
“I got down to the last four candidates but then I started to think about weekend work and some night work, so I just rang them up and bailed out.”
Another 10 years on and Ken was offered to buy into one of Sweeney’s 10 stores.
But he was happy with his lot.
One of Ken’s pleasures has been fixing footy boots.
He’s repaired footwear for Richmond, Collingwood, St Kilda and, of course, Geelong players.
But, make no mistake, the 69yearold is certainly looking forward to retirement.
“I thought I was feeling too fit to retire,” he says.
“But my daughter told me ‘Dad, this is the time to retire while you feel good’.”
He’ll leave in less than 12 months.
Sweeney’s, according to Ken, could also be facing an uncertain future.
That’s because they don’t make shoemakers like him any more.
“(The owner) said when I retire he’ll close it but I hope he doesn’t,” Ken laments.
“It will be good if we can find an apprentice.
“I’ve taught heaps of apprentices for three, four or five years. Some do their time but there’s not enough money nowadays.
“There’s a lot of history here – it will be a shame.”