At a tiny roadside geta stall in southern Taiwan’s Tainan City, owner Kuo Tsung-hsin is busy handcrafting a pair of Japanese clogs. He focuses intensely while stapling Y-shaped cotton straps to wooden blocks, the pneumatic crack of his air gun almost drowned out by the incessant hum of passing traffic.
Founded by Kuo’s grandfather Kuo Chuan-lu during the Qing dynasty (1644-1912), Zhen Hsin specializes in made-to-measure getas. The stall has shoed many a bare foot over the years, all the while witnessing the rise, fall and rise again of this iconic footwear that once indicated social class in Taiwan.
“In the Japanese colonial period (1895-1945), clogs were for the nobility and straw-braided shoes for the common man,” said Kuo, who inherited the stall in 1987. “Ordinary people finally had a chance to wear the footwear after the Japanese left.”
According to Kuo, the Japanese wore getas because the footwear kept dirt from flicking onto the back of the legs and enabling kimonos or other expensive clothes to remain unsoiled.
Although getas were popular, their hardness and cumbersome shape soon saw the elites looking for more comfortable and practical options. The availability of mass-produced shoes at the end of World War II impacted business, as did the ban on wearing getas in public by the ruling Kuomintang after its relocation to Taiwan from mainland China in 1949.
“In the heydays, Taiwan had over 100 geta stalls and we could sell 3,000 pairs per month,” Kuo said. “But after blue and white rubber slippers became available nationwide, the industry faced a downturn so severe that it was difficult to even give a pair of the clogs away.”
Trade was at its worst between 1980s and the 2010s, Kuo said, forcing his family to add synthetic shoes to their inventory. It was hard to make ends meet at that time, and Kuo often contemplated closing the stall. But encouragement from Chen Mei-ching, a history professor at Tainan’s National Cheng Kung University, gave the geta-maker hope and helped him keep battling.
“Chen said that retro styles popularized by Chanel and other international brands offered new opportunities for traditional industries to rebound,”
Kuo said. “She urged me to remain faithful to getas and protect the intangible slice of Taiwan history contained in every pair produced.”
The academic’s words of wisdom resonated loudly for Kuo when getas started appearing in popular local films, sparking resurgent interest in the “cool” footwear. “Monga,” a 2010 Taiwan gangster film, featured geta-wearing tough guys, and this year’s comedy “David Loman” saw clogs grace the silver screen.
Kuo is a picture of concentration as he fashions a pair of getas at his roadside stall.
But Kuo said the biggest leg-up for getas came in the wake of plasticizer scandal in 2011, after which consumers began focusing more on lifestyles of health and sustainability.
“Getas are good for the feet. Wood breathes due to its pores that absorb and drain water. Rain-soaked clogs will naturally dry in 20 minutes; regular shoes will stay wet and sticky unless steps are taken to dry them.
“That’s why in the early days, chefs or fish vendors wore getas, because the environment they worked in was damp.”
Clogs can also help correct a wearer’s posture, Kuo said, adding that wood is hard and ensures normal pronation, promoting the development of good walking habits over time.
“Many of our customers spend NT$8,000 (US$290) for a pair of posture-adjusting shoes, but later realized that the same effect can be achieved with an NT$500 pair of getas.”
Hsu Gan-yuan, a long-time customer and chef at a local Japanese restaurant is an ardent fan of getas. “They eliminate foot odor and definitely assist with improving posture,” he said.
“The principle is similar to that of sitting on a sofa. The more you sit, the more likely you will be slouch, whereas sitting on wooden chairs helps straighten your back.”
Kuo said the best getas are made from Taiwan pines, particularly those grown at under 1,000 meters. “In the early days, lauans were the trees of choice but they are extremely hard and heavy. Pines are lighter and grow much faster.”
After selecting his wood, Kuo will cut the timber into blocks and expose them under the sun for a week. “The purpose is to leech the oil and moisture from the wood, or else once the getas are finished, any paint or varnish used on the surface will crack,” he said.
The next step involves Kuo shaping the wood as per the shoe plates before smoking or varnishing the near-completed footwear for protection.
Taiwan getas, Kuo said, differ from their Japanese cousins in that the shape at the toes is squarer as opposed to radial. He puts this down to consumers of yesteryear being more frugal and not so concerned with fancy designs.
Another feature of Taiwan getas is that the strap is fastened one-fifth across the base, right next to the big toe. In Japanese versions, the band is fixed in the middle.
“The Japanese think this style allows wearers to walk with ‘high spirits,’” Kuo said. “But in Taiwan, this is unpopular as it is deemed unergonomic.”
With business getting back on track, Kuo said, he hopes to eventually open branches nationwide and even market his products globally. In fact, Hsinchu-based Industrial Technology Research Institute is assisting the geta-maker in promoting his products around Taiwan.
Faye Huang, an ITRI official, said, following Tainan City’s upgrade into a special municipality in 2010, the local government has been working to boost its traditional industries and connecting them with the fashion sector.
Zhen Hsin has successfully partnered with Wentse Co. Ltd., a clothing company founded by renowned Taiwan designer Chiang Wen-tse, Huang said, adding that Chiang has incorporated geta designs into some of her works.
“We hope to help Kuo expand his businesses using new channels such as department stores and share the tradition and history of Taiwan’s getas,” Huang said. (JSM)
Write to Grace Kuo at mlkuo@mofa.gov.tw