The Shoemaker of the Future
ep.235 The Shoemaker of the Future
Published: August 30, 2025, 00:23
Management
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Preface
The Shoemaker of the Future
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Main Text
“I just watched a TV Tokyo program where a major Japanese shoe maker said they’re working to reduce inventory.
That kind of effort sounds good, but I don’t think it will catch on in the coming era.
Here’s my idea: have shoe stores accurately measure foot size, then try on a design that’s been created with a 3D printer—charge 500 yen for the try-on pair, and if you like it, buy at the regular price.
Maybe around four manuscript pages? Is that too long? Three pages is fine too. Could you write it?”
I saw on a TV Tokyo program that a major Japanese shoe manufacturer is “working to reduce inventory.”
At first glance, that sounds wonderful—eco-friendly and rational. But something bothered me:
I have a hunch this approach won’t really catch on in the coming era.
Why? Because the very idea of “reducing inventory” is still trapped in mass-production thinking.
Produce, sell, and then reduce the leftovers—this mindset doesn’t solve the core problem.
What I’m proposing is a more fundamental shift:
a new kind of shoe shop built on measurement + 3D printing + paid try-ons.
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First, customers get their feet measured precisely in the store—
not just length and width, but instep height, arch shape, and left-right balance.
(Some sports shops already do parts of this, but I want it to be everyday practice.)
Next, a 3D printer designs the shoe from that data.
You pick colors, shapes, and material feel on a tablet.
What’s produced here is one pair for try-on.
I’d set the try-on fee at 500 yen.
If it’s totally free, you’ll get lots of casual orders and waste production costs.
At 500 yen, you attract customers serious enough to pay a little to try “their” shoes.
Of course, if they purchase, that 500 yen is deducted from the price—effectively free.
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This way, the store doesn’t need to hold piles of inventory.
All it needs is the try-on printer and materials.
It’s far more efficient—and greener—than letting hundreds of new models sleep in a warehouse.
Customers also stop buying the wrong size, which boosts satisfaction and cuts returns and complaints.
All data lives in the cloud.
Once measured, the next order can be placed online without visiting—print and ship to the home.
You could add on-site measurement services and bulk orders for sports teams.
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I feel this approach fits the times because it’s not just a sales tweak;
it can fundamentally change the relationship between consumption and production.
The era of mass-production/mass-consumption is ending.
From now on, we should deliver to the right person, in the right amount, in the right form.
Shoes are one of the easiest products to realize this with.
If this system spreads, even the phrase “efforts to reduce inventory” will feel dated.
We’re moving from “trying to reduce what we hold” to designing a system where we don’t hold it at all.
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“When a pair isn’t needed anymore, just feed it back into the 3D printer, unravel it into filament, and run it through a special liquid to wash and strip the color. Then you can reuse it.
Could you expand just this part into roughly two manuscript pages?”
Of course. Here’s a detailed section (about two pages) on reusing/recycling 3D-printed shoes.
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Title
Shoes Reborn, Not Discarded — A Circular System Powered by 3D Printing
One of the biggest advantages of 3D-printed shoes is that they can be disassembled and reused.
Traditional shoes combine leather, fabric, and rubber with stitching or adhesives, making them hard to take apart—recycling takes huge effort and cost.
3D-printed shoes, however, use mostly a single material and are formed as one body. In other words, they can go back into the printer as raw material.
The process goes like this:
First, put the unwanted shoes into the printer’s disassembly mode.
The shoes are granulated and wound back into filament.
This filament is the very material the printer used to make the shoes, so it can be used again—practically zero material loss.
Next, the filament passes through a special cleaning bath.
This breaks down and removes dirt, sweat, and pigments from dyeing.
Because the liquid circulates and is filtered and regenerated, the environmental load stays low.
After cleaning, the material returns to a near-new, colorless (clear/white) state, ready for the next print.
This system goes beyond simple recycling.
For consumers, it makes “remake when you’re bored” normal.
Change the design or color and reprint—your old shoes are reborn like buying a new pair, without any disposal or incineration.
For makers, reusing raw materials directly reduces cost.
It lowers risks around stocking and procurement, and raises brand value as an “eco-friendly company.”
This circular model can extend beyond shoes—to apparel, bags, and sports gear.
The shoemaker of the future isn’t just a place to sell; it’s a hub to make–use–return.
In that world, the very idea of “throwing things away” quietly becomes a thing of the past.
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“Yeah, I’m sure they more or less get it. Probably? The initial cost is the only expensive part! But the 3D printer and the sales floor can just keep display samples, so there’s no space taken up by stock. And because the shoes match the wearer’s size, you don’t get blisters, right?”
Absolutely—here it is as bullet points.
3D-Printed Shoe Manufacturing — Introduction Simulation
•Initial Costs
•3D printer hardware
•Disassembly & cleaning unit
•Foot-scan equipment
•Staff training
•Initial investment: ¥5–10 million (depends on store size)
•Post-Launch Savings (annual)
•No inventory storage (display = samples only)
•Zero overproduction → disposal cost down
•Returns/exchanges drastically reduced
•Storage savings: ~¥2–5 million
•Disposal savings: ~¥0.5–1 million
•Return-handling savings: ~¥0.3–0.5 million
•Customer Benefits
•Exact fit → fewer blisters
•Quick turnaround
•Free choice of color/design
•Higher satisfaction → repeat rate +10–20%
•Word-of-mouth drives new customers
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You asked to add a “one-year-after” scenario, so here it is.
One Year After Introduction — Forecast
•Operations
•Warehouse space repurposed (e.g., extra sales floor/café)
•Less staff time on inventory chores
•Production shifts to reservation-based; “no leftovers” becomes the norm
•Financials
•30–40% of initial investment recovered through savings
•Profit improves by ~¥3–6.5 million from inventory/disposal cuts
•Higher-value models increase; average ticket up ~10%
•Customer Experience
•Fit reputation spreads; customers come from other prefectures
•Reprints with new designs become habitual for repeaters
•“Shoes just for me” spreads on social media; brand image rises
•Environment
•Closed-loop recycle established (disassemble → clean → reuse)
•Media coverage as an eco-minded store
•Stronger support from SDGs-aware youth and overseas visitors
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Finally, here’s the essay-style day-in-the-life you requested.
A Day Inside the Shoemaker of the Future — On-Site Report
At 10 a.m., the shutters rise and light pours into the glass-fronted shop.
Rows of colorful shoes line the wall—yet all are samples.
There is no “real” inventory here.
At the foot-scan station by the entrance, reservations are already waiting.
A staffer greets them and guides them to the scanner.
In about 30 seconds, precise data—size, shape, arch, balance—appears on screen.
“What kind of design today?”
The customer smiles as they tap colors and patterns on a tablet.
On the in-store monitor, a 3D model of the shoe spins in real time.
A try-on pair costs 500 yen. The backroom printer takes about an hour to output the prototype;
if the fit feels right, they place the final order.
This paid try-on has been a hit since day one.
Returns for size/fit mismatches have dropped to nearly zero.
Staff spend less time on packing and returns, and more time with customers.
In the afternoon, another customer brings in an old pair.
Into the disassembly unit they go; minutes later, the shoe is in parts.
A special bath strips dirt, sweat, and dye.
Dried filament returns to the printer—ready to be reborn as new shoes.
“I want to make these for my son’s birthday,” a mother says, showing a photo on her phone.
The printer interface pulls the pattern from the image.
A week later, she’ll return to pick up a brand-new box with a smile.
By evening, customers who’ve finished scanning chat in the store.
Many film the printers for social media.
The moment “my shoes” take shape is photogenic from every angle.
After closing, staff review the day’s orders.
The warehouse inventory sheet remains blank—yet sales are up 20% year-on-year.
Waste is zero. The old storage area is now a café corner where regulars gather.
A year ago, this shop struggled with mountains of stock and disposal costs.
Now, it’s featured by newspapers and online as an environment-minded store,
drawing customers from other prefectures and abroad.
The soft hum of the 3D printers keeps time with the shop’s new routine.
It sounds like the heartbeat of a new era—one that cuts waste and creates only what’s needed.
