Discover Restoration and Repairs

This tiny shop tucked away in Kips Bay has been the go-to spot for any and all of one’s footwear-related troubles since it opened in 2014. Manuel Muicela, the owner, came to New York from Nicaragua in 1987 and quickly joined the trade of shoe repair, enduring grueling six-day workweeks. After gaining thirty years of experience in the field, he was finally able to open his own business. “I learned how to repair shoes, and now I work for me,” he remarked proudly. In this residential area, most of his regulars live in the neighborhood. On the loyalty of his customers, Manuel noted, “If you do a good job, people come back.” A few things about Manuel’s shop set him apart from the rest. One of the first things that grabs the eye upon entering is the set of old-fashioned shoeshine chairs, where one can get a shoeshine for $5, cash only. He also has a unique machine in the back of the shop that stitches both the inside and the outside of the shoe. With a chuckle, Manuel warned our team, “You can stitch your finger if you’re not careful.” This machine is so rare that many other shoe repair shop owners throughout the city come to Manuel to use it.

Stepping inside Jim's Shoe Repair is like walking into a time capsule. At first glance, it appears that nothing has changed since the store opened in 1932. Wooden saloon-style booths line the wall opposite shoeshine chairs equipped with golden footrests and leather backrests, while the original cash register still stands proudly in the front of the shop. Jim's is the place for the customer who wants "the best shoe shine" with a bit of small talk or a glance through the daily newspapers. It is simple and unpretentious, which explains its long history of celebrity customers.Vito Rocco came to New York by way of Italy in the 1920s and opened up his shop in 1932, across the street from where it stands today. He called it Jim’s as an ode to America — short, simple, and recognizable. His son, Joseph, began working in the shop in 1940 and did not retire until 2019. “At age ninety, he still wants to come in, but I won’t let him anymore,” his son, Joe, said lovingly. He and his son, Andrew, are now “honored” to be continuing this family business.Although Jim's has largely stayed the same since its inception, Joe noted that they no longer clean hats, as this was deemed a fire hazard in the 1940s. Joe emphasized, however, that their shoe repair is performed the traditional way, with most of it being done by hand. There are no nailing guns used and machine work is kept to a minimum — only for stitching and sanding.Walking through the back is like being granted a tour of Santa’s workshop. Joe strolls through the various departments of the repair services, patting his employees on the back and exchanging laughs along the way. There are rickety ladders to go up and down where one finds every nook and cranny converted into a cozy but busy workspace. “Even if we wanted to change up the place, our customers would never allow us. They appreciate it the way it is after four generations.”

As our readers know, we love the term "hidden gem" at Manhattan Sideways, but it is rare that we find a place that fits the term as well as David Segal Violins. Some members of the Manhattan Sideways team and I were walking along 68th Street when one of the summer interns pointed out that a musician was playing a violin behind a semi-subterranean window. Glancing further, we noticed a man crafting a violin in the adjoining window. Always the inquisitive one, I attempted to find something to indicate what was happening inside this building, but it was not until we went to our cell phones and Googled "violin shop on West 68th," that we discovered the history of the half-hidden musical grotto. I then called the phone number that came up and introduced myself to David Segal, a violinmaker and dealer who has been servicing the musicians of Lincoln Center and the greater New York area since 1975. He kindly buzzed us in, and it was then that we were able to truly appreciate his magical workshop and showroom.While showing us around, David explained that he had been on 54th and 62nd Street before moving to his present location. "This is the last time: the next time they will move me," he said with a wry grin. He had an excellent sense of humor, as well as a clear sense of wonder and joy that came through in our time spent together.As I gazed in wonder at a young apprentice who was busy at his desk working with both wood and strings, I commented to the others that this was reminiscent of Geppetto's puppet shop. David laughed, and began to share his story. Originally from Israel, he left for Italy in 1969 to study the art of violin-making. The art is in his blood: his father also made violins, and David showed me the wall of photographs of musicians who use violins crafted either by himself or his dad. After completing his degree in 1972, David moved to New York. Since then, he has become firmly entrenched on the Upper West Side. "I don't have a visa to go to the East Side," he joked. Through his work, he met his wife, who played with the New York Philharmonic for forty years. She came in to buy a "bow," and left with a "beau."Turning to his studio door, I saw a picture of his adorable young grandson, and learned that he has a very artistic family, with his son working as a conductor and his daughter as a visual artist. David himself also dabbles in visual arts: He pointed out a mobile hanging above the front room, crafted from violin bows and bridges. He makes them for his grandchildren, he told us. When I asked David about the charming small violins, he explained that each size is for a different age group. Beaming, he held up the tiniest one in the room, and declared "I am taking this one home with me tonight. My two year old grandson will be arriving in New York shortly."Right before we left, David opened a vault in the front room and pulled out a true Stradivarius, crafted in 1737, which must have been worth a fortune. He says, however, that all that matters with a violin is the sound. Musicians, including his wife, have often traded antique, beautifully made violins for newer, cheaper ones with better sound. "We want to make a violin that sounds good," he stated simply. "If it sounds great, it doesn't matter if it is not so beautiful." As he spoke to us, a customer was testing violins in the front room. He said that clients can take an hour or two to test out the instruments, and may even take them home for a week's trial period. As I heard the strains of tunes come from the customer's test subject, I asked David if he still loves hearing the musicians play, or if it has become background noise to him after so many years. He smiled and said, "I listen to music with great pleasure all the time...but I only listen to classical!"

Twenty years and counting, Bob has been restoring all kinds of furniture in the city, but it seems that his passion lies in working with the local theater groups.

When Paul first opened his business in 1973, he did not sell or repair a single watch; he did not even know how. Paul started out in the East Village doing picture framing, and eventually expanded to selling antiques. But one day, a passerby changed Paul’s business entirely. An old Jewish man - broke from gambling too much - walked into Paul’s shop, claiming to be skilled at fixing watches, and proposed that the two do business together. Paul agreed, designating a small bench in his shop for the man to work on one condition: that he teach Paul the trade.Gradually, the business shifted from picture framing to mainly watch repair. Paul’s son, Philip, who had been instructed in watch repair since the age of eleven, took over in the 1990s and currently owns their latest location, which is shared with a furniture restorer. The pairing is a good one, according to Philip, who explained, “Everything matches up because we both sell antiques and brick-a-brack.”The space is modest in size, the walls adorned with select antiques that Philip continues to sell. Large glass cases display hundreds of timepieces, ranging from pocket watches to wristwatches. Many of these carry significant history, passing from owner to owner since the 1890s until battery watches became trendy in the 1960s, while others are more modern and recently manufactured.

Sam Kreger went to school in Ukraine to learn to the art of shoe making before coming to the U.S. in 1977. He began his journey in Philadelphia, then moved to New York, where he has remained for over forty years. Sam initially worked for a large company that owned shoe repair businesses in the city. After only two months, he asked the owner if he might purchase the 14th Street location. “This man said to me, ‘You are a smart man to want to have your own businesses,’ and he sold it to me,” Sam told us. From there, Sam purchased another shop on East 85th Street followed by his present location. “It wasn't easy having so many places. I learned my lesson and just held onto 65th Street, which has proven to be a wise decision."

VIP Shoe Restorers caters to a high end men’s crowd, carrying a wide range of expensive shoes and polishes. While speaking with Nick, a co-owner of the shop, we learned that he partners with B Nelson Shoes, another well known shoe restoration company, where Nick began his career. He is a third generation shoe restorer: His family has been in business for more than ninety years.Nick has a wide range of connections throughout the industry, including with shoe specialists in Europe. Thanks to these relationships, he has brought a variety of boutique products into the store. Nick continues to solidify his standing in the shoe world by writing a column in a men’s fashion magazine. He has become their go-to expert on shoe advice.According to Nick, his encyclopedic knowledge of the shoe industry and his loyalty to his customers has helped him become "the" shoe restorer for many big midtown firms. He recalled a time when one of his clients brought in a huge bag of shoes from his car, many of them worth "well over $10,000," to be cleaned and polished. Nick proudly told us that, "This customer, a shoe fanatic, trusted me enough to handle his shoes properly and use only the best products."

Although this small yet inviting barbershop is relatively new to Midtown East, Boris Sufayev—originally from Tel Aviv and a New Yorker since 2000—has fifteen years of experience in the barbershop business, much of which he spent in his previous barbershop at Fulton and William Street. The formula to his success, however, has not changed. “You have to be a good haircutter” Boris says, “give customer service, good atmosphere, a nice cozy place.” Perhaps most importantly of all, clients look for “a good conversation” while they are getting their hair cut.One could easily be confused by the “Shoe Repair” and “Watch Repair” signs that accompany the European Barbershop’s exterior. Yet the explanation given by the attentive-to-detail Boris is quite simple. The space of the haircutting salon used to be entirely occupied by the shoe and watch repair store of his father for twenty five years, until in early 2015 he also made space for Boris to establish European Barbershop. So one can not only come out with a dashing haircut, but with their shoes repaired and a copy of their keys for safe-keeping. And, of course, that smile that comes after a pleasant chat.

Two members of the Manhattan Sideways Team, Tom and Olivia, both commented on the nostalgic smell of shoe polish and leather that met them as they stepped into Riverside Shoe Repair. It is a comforting smell that has been around for centuries, and defines the best shoe repair shops. We had the privilege of talking with George, who recently took over the business after his brother retired and moved back to Colombia, where they are from originally. George explained that in Colombia, his father made shoes by hand, but that they do not have the necessary tools here in the United States to be able to do so.George's father opened Riverside Shoe Repair in 1969. It has always been on 72nd Street, and George remembers working in the store from a young age. Until recently, he had his own store in Orlando, Florida, but came back north to take over from his brother. When I asked him if he was excited about experiencing New York winters again, he said, "That's why I moved to Florida!"I was interested to learn that Beatrice Barbieri - who owned the iconic Louis Shoe Rebuilders, until is was forced to close to make way for brand new shops inside the Empire State Building - technically owns Riverside Shoes, and that George worked in her shop on 34th Street before moving to Florida. It is comforting to know that the New York shoe repair world is a small, tight-knit family, and that this particular shop on 72nd is determined to withstand the test of time, change and increasing rent.