Miru Wong Ka-lam shares her journey of running a 67 years old embroidered shoe shop.
By Belle Yip
Embroidered shoes maker Miru Wong Ka-lam works from 8pm every day to prepare different compartments of embroidered shoes.
“I spend five to six hours cutting soles into different sizes and sewing patterns for the vamp of the shoes,” says Wong, who inherited a handmade shoe shop from her grandfather.
Sewing different patterns for each pair of shoes can be time-consuming. “It can take me more than 10 hours to sew the patterns for each pair of shoes,” the third-generation owner of a shoe shop, ‘Sindart’, says.
The shop was established in Hong Kong by Wong’s grandfather in 1958. It is now located on the first floor of Bowring Centre in Jordan.
The price of her handmade embroidered shoes falls in a range. The most affordable option costs HKD$99 while tailored order can be up to HKD $2800 or above.
“Once, it took me half a year to hand in a pair of tailor-made embroidered shoes to a customer who was about to get married. She wanted to wear embroidered shoes which were the same as her mother’s wedding shoes on her big day,” the shoemaker recalls.
Embroidered shoes were once fashionable footwear in the 1950s-60s. Now ladies only wear them during special occasions such as Chinese traditional weddings and Lunar New Year.
Wong shares that the most time-consuming part was designing a dragon and phoenix motif. “The bride gave me a photo of her mother’s shoes. But it was not clear, and it took me some time to work out the details of the design. I had to keep making changes to suit the customer’s needs,” she says.
Apart from the design, her handmade shoes can also be tailored based on each customer’s unique foot size, features, and issues such as asymmetrical feet and feet with larger bones. Some customers also ask Wong to create a new design based on images of their pets.
Her creations feature a variety of colours, of which each colour has five to six different colour tones, requiring a lot of time for sourcing materials of the right colours.
Wong’s love for embroidered shoes began when she was a six-year-old primary school pupil. Her grandparents taught her beading and sewing after seeing her drawing on shoes. Her first masterpiece was a sewing flower.
When she was a media communication major student, she used embroidered shoes as a main theme in school projects. “In filming, catalogue and editorial design projects, embroidered shoes were featured as the main character,” she shares.
Being showered with compliments from classmates and teachers at university, she became more devoted to embroidered shoes production and started to design new patterns, such as pandas.
She also conducted more in-depth research on embroidered shoes for her final year project. “I learnt more about embroidered shoes, the related culture and history, such as the development of the craft in different dynasties. During the Qing dynasty, consorts wore those shoes with flowerpot-heels to show their prestigious status,” she says.
Wong makes use of what she learnt at university to produce promotional materials to rebrand and reform the store with 67 years of history.
In 2016, she wrote a book to promote embroidered shoes. The book also covered history, the making of shoes and her personal experience from childhood to inheriting the family business.
As a new blood to the industry, Wong continues to release new designs to retain customers. New patterns on her embroidered shoes now feature adorable animals such as rabbits, Shiba dogs, and cats to boost her business.
“I use new types of cloth such as denim and velvet, depending on the seasons and compatibility into daily outfits,” Wong says.
The styles of shoes are also amended. “I have made more slip-resistant soles for slippers, so they are more suitable for wearing outdoors. I design high-heel and more slim-fit editions to make embroidered shoes more fashionable,” she says.
Wong finds that there are supporters for both traditional and innovative designs, and sometimes older customers opt for those with unconventional patterns such as rabbits and Shiba dogs.
“Most existing customers purchase our shoes about once a year, especially for festivals or special occasions such as Lunar New Year. Some tourists visiting Hong Kong also buy my shoes, and most are from Japan,” she says.
Despite Wong’s effort to sustain the business, 2025 is tough for her. “My shop survived SARS and COVID. But in 2025, the total change of consumption pattern is a big hit. People are more willing to spend money on traveling instead,” Wong says.
The business was good even during the pandemic. The embroidered slippers were popular, and many purchased them online,” she adds.
“Also, it has become harder to buy materials for making shoes in Sham Shui Po, where many cloth and needle work stores have closed down due to decline in demand,” Wong says.
At the height of the business when her grandparents were running the store, each version with the same size and design had 10 pairs produced. The stores mainly sold ready stock instead of made-to-order items.
“There were 20-30 full-time workers back then when my grandparents were in charge. They had to seek help from neighbours and friends sometimes before Lunar New Year to meet the sudden increase in demand,” Wong recalls.
“A few years ago, I made five to six pairs of the same size and design. But now, only one to two pairs for each are produced,” she says.
To sustain the business, she scales it down and continues to create more new designs to grow customers.
Wong also tries to hold more workshops to promote embroidered shoes. “Participants can make their own shoes from scratch and learn about the meaning of each pattern,” she says. So far, about 2000 people have joined her workshops since 2012, most of them are in their 60s and 80s.
Wong gives talks at schools to promote the traditional skill to students.
“Youngsters do appreciate traditional culture. I put my passion into this craft. I will persist, until the time when I accomplish,” she says.
Edited by Alexia Leung
Sub-edited by Suan Yeon
