All language subtitles for Inside.the.Factory.S07E05.Leather.Boots.1080p.iP.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264_track3_[eng]

We Brits are mad for boots.

Whether you're into some
serious hiking...

..getting ready for a game.

Taking to the open road!

Or just playing at cowboys.

We buy boots in all
shapes and sizes.

And where's the best place
to see them made?

A factory that's been making boots
for 120 years.

I'm Gregg Wallace...

It's like a tank of eels!

..and I'm following the steps
a pair of boots takes...

Oi!

..from a side of leather...

It's like cutting out biscuits.

..and super strong stitching...

There's very little chance
of that coming apart.

All right.

..to a fiery finish.

You ready?

Whoa!

I'm Cherry Healy.

And I'm going to be
making shoelaces!

With some speedy machines.

This is the fastest granny
in the world.

And I'm learning the secret
to a waterproof welly.

1,000, 1,001, 1,002, 1,003.

And historian Ruth Goodman is
revealing how a British company

took lady shoes from risque...

Wow, that's a sexy pair of boots.

..to royalty.

The most famous customer
is Queen Elizabeth.

This factory produces more than
180,000 pairs of boots every year -

and I'm going to reveal
just how they do it.

Welcome to Inside The Factory.

Tucked away amongst these thatched
cottages in the village of

Wollaston, Northamptonshire,
is the Dr Martens factory.

It may be a tranquil setting,
but this place has been making

some serious noise in boot
production since 1901.

A team of 76 factory workers
make 25 different patterns,

kicking out nearly
3,500 pairs a week.

And I'm going to learn how to make
a pair of their original 1460 boot.

So-called because the factory
started making them on 1/4/1960.

And they've been worn by everyone

from policeman to
pop stars ever since.

The factory has two sites,
just a mile apart.

And my boot production starts
at the Raymond Close site,

at the intake bay, where I'm meeting
operations manager Steve Bate.

Steve? Gregg.
Hello, my friend. Nice to meet you.

What's that on there?

This is leather. So, we're bringing
leather into the factory.

We've got about 8,000 feet of
leather on the back of the van.

How much leather arrives here
in the course of a year?

In a year, we get about
590,000 square feet.

It will cover the floor space
of Windsor Castle.

You want to cover Windsor Castle
in leather?

It's my dream.

Oh, marvellous!

Right, first things first,
get it unloaded?

Yep, get it off the van.
Forklift? Come on, sir.

The leather is unloaded
into the materials warehouse,

and my production begins.

The factory uses cow leather
from all over the world,

with more than 100 types of finish.

So, I need to select the perfect
piece for my boots.

Hang on a minute,
that can't be a cow. Yep.

What is it, a cow from space?

That's cow under there, yep.

Is there a particular type?

It's mostly beef cow, so most
of the leather that we've got

is a by-product of the
meat industry.

So, if we don't use it and
make something out of it,

it's going to go to waste. Right.

So, what am I looking for?

Well, we're going to be looking
at biscuit back leather today.

What? Nice heavy boot leather
from down in Yeovil, in Somerset.

So, it's a traditional
work boot finish.

You can see, that's our black finish
with a hair cell print.

That's that texture.

But on the back of it, it's got
this lovely biscuit colour.

So, if you want to grab
this roll here.

This one's for you, this is going to
be your roll for making your pair.

And we're going to take that down
to the stretching machine.

Once I've got my side of leather,

I need to inspect it
for imperfections.

OK, take up that crayon.

Take up my crayon.

We can start looking at
the cow's anatomy.

You're looking for growth,
you're looking for anything

like an insect mark or a scar
it might have picked up.

You can get scratches from
barbed wires, from fences.

Everybody comes out of life with
a few scars, even cows.

So, what do I do?
Draw a ring around it?

Yeah, draw a little ring around it.

I don't think this cow had much
wrong with it at all. Maybe.

Well, we've got some
growth down here.

These are stretch marks
in the neckline.

Wow, you are particular.

That's it, put something in to tell
them which way the growth is going.

That will help later on.
Very good.

This single side of leather
should be enough

for 12 pairs of boots,
including mine.

It's a beautiful thing.
What do I do with it now?

We're going to roll it up,
take it over to the other factory

and get it cut into pieces.
Brilliant.

Now, if you look after them,
good leather boots should last

a lifetime - but many of us
chuck our footwear in the bin

at the first sign of wear and tear.

Cherry's been finding out how
to give your old favourites

a new lease of life.

Our passion for fast fashion
means that of the 24 billion pairs

of shoes and boots produced
globally each year,

around 90% will end up in landfill -

where trainers, in particular,
can fester for up to 1,000 years.

I massively regret how many
trainers I've thrown out

thinking they had come to
the end of their life.

Thankfully, for this pair,
there's a much greener option.

A new wave of eco businesses
are popping up that will

refresh and upcycle sad sneakers,
like mine.

And they work with local cobblers,
like Tony Steel.

Tony, I hear you are a shoe doctor.

These are in a state. OK.

Can they be saved?

Well, yes, there's a lot
we can do with this.

With trainers, people tend
to wear and throw away.

But, only now, people are realising
that you can transform them.

OK, where do we start?

With these, we would definitely
give them a clean first

before doing something
with the sole.

All right, Tony, let's get cracking.

Is this the operating table?

Yes. Great. This is where
the process starts.

So, what are you spraying it with?

It's just a detergent,
just to remove the dirt.

So, this is the shampoo?

And you see straight away...

Wow, look at that.

..it's starting to make
a lot of difference.

Oh, that's amazing.

Oh, oh!

This is great.
I need one of these at home.

Tony's industrial steamer
blasts away dirt at 170 degrees.

Everyone needs a little
hot scrubber.

Whilst one squeaky clean shoe
is left to dry,

the other has its
dirty bottom ground,

ready for a new rubber sole.

The tread is glued and
pressed firmly...

Ooh!

..into place.

So, is that sole now securely on?
That is securely on.

I mean, it looks great. I can't wait
to go out in these, Tony.

Job done!

It's looks like I stood on
a loaf of bread.

Tony slices off the excess...

..and my dirty trainer makeover
is complete.

Wow!

They look so fresh.

Look at that.

They've been at Tony's shoe spa.

But what are Tony's top tips
for giving your sneakers

a longer, greener life at home?

Don't put them anywhere near
a washing machine.

Too late.

A wet rag with warm, soapy
water to wipe them down.

Some cream. With the cream,
it just goes on -

like if you're moisturising your
face, you're moisturising the shoe.

This is what we call a shoe tree.

This will absorb moisture from the
shoe after you're not wearing it,

and it also keeps it into shape.

So, I should use these
even in my trainers? Yes.

Any shoe that you've got that you
cherish needs to be looked after.

Extending the life of your trainers
is well worth the effort.

You're not just saving money.

By not buying a new pair, you're
reducing the amount of plastic

and carbon that's involved
in manufacturing.

But if you do still want
the buzz of something new,

there are companies that
can add an extra bit of style

to your current kicks.

Knock, knock!

Hi, Cherry.

I think they're ready
for a bit of decoration.

Yeah, we can do that. Yeah?

Oh, there we go.

It's got to be the cherry blossom.

Yeah? They'll look great
on your shoes.

I think that is gorgeous.

Kasia Maria Zaitz paints
on a new design,

using long-lasting acrylic
paint for leather.

Oh, my gosh, you've got
a very steady hand.

And after just one hour, it's like
I have a brand-new pair of trainers,

without the waste.

Oh, my gosh.

They are absolutely beautiful.

Thank you.

It's good that you saved the shoes.

I started the day with a manky
old pair of stinky trainers,

and now I have the most beautiful
trainers I have ever owned.

One less pair of shoes in landfill.

A saving to celebrate.

Back at the factory,
I'm 25 minutes into production.

And the leather for my boots
has been stretched,

chalked up, and sent over
to the main site...

..where I'm meeting Amber Leighton.

Hey! Hiya.

This is lovely.
I've got to bring this to you.

Where are we?
We're in the clicking room.

Clicking room? No.

The name comes from back
in the old days,

where presses weren't available.

Everything used to be hand cut
with knives.

So, if you can imagine on a surface
where leather's being cut,

it's making a click, click
clicking noise. Right, OK.

What have you got there, then?

Are they the different shapes
of the boot? Yeah.

So, we've got our different shapes
that cut out our boot.

Razor sharp cookie cutters are
pressed down with 80lbs

of hydraulic pressure to create
seven sections per boot.

This jigsaw puzzle of shapes will
form what is called the upper -

everything above the sole -
including the quarters,

the back strap, the tongue,

and the vamp - the first piece
I need to cut from my boot.

We'll always start with
the butt side.

It's the bit with the least growth.

It's the thicker part
of the leather, as well.

You're absolutely right,
it's almost twice the thickness.

Yep, yep.

Wearing the shoe, you want the front
to be the strongest point,

so you'll always cut your vamp out
of the best side of the leather.

When you've used all the good bits
for your vamps,

then you go onto your belly, where
you can cut your tongues from

because it's a lot softer.

So, that's the vamp.

This rabbit mask is called the vamp?
Yep, yep.

Is that where "revamped"
might come from?

"Revamp" is actually an
old boot making term,

which means to change
the front of the boot.

Is that right? Yeah, yeah.

So, you revamp... Yeah.

Look, I know it's an expensive
piece of material,

but would you let me have a go
at cutting it?

Yeah, I think I can do that.

And the thing is, is to waste
as little leather as possible?

Yes, yeah.

So, you hold your hands like that,
and then...

Oi!

And that's your vamp cut. Hey!

It's a little bit like cutting out
biscuits or pastry shapes, isn't it?

Yep, yep. That's exactly what it is.

Look, there's a little mark there,
so you can't use that.

Yeah, you want to avoid that.

The aim is to cut 168 parts
out of each side of leather

for 12 pairs of boots,
avoiding any blemishes.

Oh, look at that, look! Oh, no.

It was a perfect shape, and I can't
use it because of the little scar.

Is each one of these called a click?
Yes.

How many clicks would a good
clicker click in a day?

2,000 times.

Make 2,000 cuts? Yep.

And how many pairs of boots
would that make?

That's about 200 pairs.

Wow.

I could do with speeding up,
really, though, couldn't I? Yeah.

Be a quicker clicker. Yep.

Some pieces of the leather
are too thick, like the tongue.

So, to shave it down, we head
to the splitting machine.

We need to split them now.

There's a rotating blade
inside of it,

and as we feed the leader through,
it makes the leather thinner.

It's only 0.2 millimetres
that gets taken off.

Where does it go, Amber?

Through there.

And you want leather side up.

Oh!

The spinning metal blade shaves
off the brown underside,

making the tongue leather softer.

This is one of the oddest machines
I've ever seen.

But it's very important
for a comfort factor,

cos you don't want a thick bit of
leather against your ankle.

I love this.

Now I've cut and thinned
my boot leather,

I'm heading out on to the
fashionable factory floor...

..where they're rushed off
their feet.

Well, all except for one of them.

Perhaps my mate, Steve, can explain.

What happens here?

Eleanor's skiving off right now.

So, let me clarify.

She's working very hard,
but the slang word "skiving" -

meaning not working
as hard as you could,

or not working as hard
as everybody else -

comes from this operation
in a shoe factory.

So, what is skiving?

She's running the edges of the
leather over a bell-shaped knife.

So, where we're going to bring
two pieces of leather together,

we want to thin the edges,
a bit like a joint in carpentry.

This is just doing the edges
where the needle

and thread are going to go.

Which bits of my boot have got
to be skived?

All of it apart from the back strap.

So, she's skiving that bit off.

Do you know how it came
to mean being lazy? Yeah.

Interestingly, in a traditional
shoe factory layout,

all of the operations before this
one, you have to stand up to do.

This is the first operation
that comes with a seat,

because you've got to sit down to
pedal it to make the blade go round.

So, if you're working really hard,
you're on your feet all day.

But, Eleanor, what's she up to?

She's having a sit down
and skiving off.

That is brilliant!

Eleanor, you do, believe me,
look like a natural skiver.

All the pieces for the upper
have been clicked and skived,

and are ready to be stitched
together for my boots.

These, of course, started
out as a work boot,

and have now become something
of a style statement.

Well, Ruth is hot on the heels
of the shoemakers whose designs

went from scandal to gracing
the feet of royalty.

These days, we live in a world
where shoes are something

we like to show off.

But in the 19th century, most women
were wearing practical boots

hidden beneath floor-length skirts.

A glimpse of stocking
was something shocking.

But one place where a flash
of ankle was acceptable

was in the smoky London theatres
of the late 1800s.

So, I'm taking to the stage
with Nicholas Rayne...

Nick, hello. Hello.

This looks amazing!

..whose great-grandmother
put women's footwear

firmly in the spotlight.

So, what exactly was it that
your great-grandmother did?

She founded a theatrical
costumiers in 1885,

in London's Waterloo Road,

and one of their specialities
was footwear.

So, we are talking about something
that's meant to be seen,

that it's part of the show? Yes.

The shoes that Rayne made for
the stage had to be glamorous,

had to be appealing, and that
would be something that would be

quite novel because they wouldn't
normally see it.

Quite racy, a lady's ankle.

Woohoo! Yeah, absolutely.

Costumes were often risque.

A little bit cheeky.

Rayne's racy designs were worn by
scantily-clad acrobatic troupes...

..sassy singers...

..and seductive showgirls.

These date from about 1905.

Black satin boots. I mean, wow.

Yeah.

They are quite a thing,
aren't they? Yeah.

That's a sexy pair of boots.

Yes, I'd go along with that, yeah.

By the Roaring Twenties,
shoes were on show off-stage too,

as hemlines rose and wealthier
women began to cast away

the claustrophobic dresses

and attitudes of the pre-war years.

The theatrical shoemakers
capitalised on this new market,

and with the help of some of
their most famous clients,

they played a PR masterstroke.

You can see in this photo on
the left, there's Anna Pavlova,

the most famous ballerina
in the world,

wearing a pair of ballet shoes
which we would have made.

But on the right-hand side, there's
an advert from the early 1920s,

saying that, "Madame Pavlova wears
Rayne's shoes on and off the stage,"

and this would have had
a major impact.

We have to think of her as an
international superstar.

She was a huge star of the day.

And did it work,
this celebrity advertising?

Oh, very much so. It was more
or less an overnight sensation.

Something that had once been
racy has now become

really quite respectable.

By the 1950s, well-heeled clients
flocked to buy the glamorous shoes,

like movie star Brigitte Bardot.

I'm going to sample this world
of high-end designer footwear

with historian Amber Butchart.

Amber, hello! Hi. Welcome.

What a place this is! Isn't it?

Welcome to the Oliver Messel Suite
at The Dorchester.

This is a suite that Oliver Messel
designed, the stage designer,

he designed it in the 1950s.

And he'd also designed the
interiors of the Rayne shoe shop

on Bond Street, as well.

If you had gone there to buy shoes,

this is what it would have
been like.

It's extraordinary. Amazing.

So, who was the customers
for this sort of shoe?

Well, probably the most famous
customer for Rayne shoes

is Queen Elizabeth.

Yeah.

That's actually an incredible
picture that I have here.

This is Princess Anne's christening,

and here we can see three
generations of royal women

all wearing incredible Rayne shoes.

It's just amazing.

So, we've got Queen Mary here...
Yeah, yeah.

..Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother
and Queen Elizabeth.

Exactly.

Now, it's thought that, also,
Queen Elizabeth may have even

worn Rayne shoes for her
coronation in 1953.

But we can't be entirely sure

because the gown is so long.

Just can't see!

We can't see the shoes,
unfortunately.

However, if she was wearing
Rayne shoes, they were probably

very similar to the Rayne shoes
that she wore for her wedding

just a few years earlier, in 1947.

Just gorgeous.

And they look really modern.
I mean, if you'd shown me that,

I would not have known that
was 1947. Totally.

They look really contemporary.

Such glamorous shoes, inspired
by their theatrical roots,

put British shoemaking on
the biggest stage of all.

What a transformation -

from making shoes
for music hall dancing girls

to Queen Elizabeth
on what was probably

the most important day of her life.

Back at the factory,

and 52 minutes into production,

my leather has been prepped,

cut and skived.

So, I'm heading to the closing room

to get stitching with Steve.

We're going to join all the
different pieces of the boot

together as we go along the room.

There are 36 sewing stations here,

all run by highly skilled workers,

who, one by one, bring together
the pieces for my boot upper -

the quarters, back strap,
tongue and vamp.

We're starting with my quarters.

I'd probably sew my fingers
to the boots,

so I'm letting Amy
show me how it's done.

Amy, take it away.

So, I'm going to sew the
quarters together

right down the middle to create
the first shape of the boot.

Is there a particular stitch?

Yep, it's a zigzag stitch.

Go on, show me.

One Step Beyond
by Madness

The zigzag is the only one where
the needle jumps from side to side.

It's so that we can get two
flat surfaces into a nice curve.

Oh, I see.

And that's beginning to be
the back of my boot.

Amy's zig-zag stitch brings
together the two quarters

without any overlap to create a
smooth and blister-free back seam.

This is the first time we've
joined up the separate bits.

That's right, yeah.

Amy, thank you. Thank you.

But the zigzag isn't very strong,

so a back strap of leather is added
using a neat running stitch.

Each one of these is done by hand?

Each one of these is done
by hand and by eye.

No measuring machine, no timing
device, no computers.

For added strength, a second line is
sewn just millimetres from the first

in a perfect, symmetrical row.

This is skilled work.

This is skilled work,
it's craftsmanship.

It takes up to five years to train
as a cordwainer like Donna,

who in just 90 seconds secures
the loops that will help me

pull on my boots.

That is a beautiful thing.

Next, a pliable piece
of composite plastic

is added to stiffen the heel.

And with the sides and back
firmly joined together,

it's time to build the front.

Along with a soft white lining,

my thin tongue is sewn into
the thick vamp leather.

This is now the toe of my boot,
and here's the tongue.

Is that right? That's right.

It's coming together, mate,
innit? It is.

Now all the parts are ready
to be joined together.

Right, what we've got here is one
of our most important operations.

This is where the front and the
back come together permanently.

What Carol's going to do for us

is she's going to do one long loop
of stitching that's going to,

basically, touch on every piece
of leather in the boot.

It's going to stitch the front
and the back all together at once.

So, this type of construction
makes the upper really rigid,

pulls it all together really strong,

but it spreads the weight
over all the stitches.

There's about 1,500 stitches
overall in an upper.

That is the boot, isn't it?

Finally, a crucial join
that takes the most strain

needs a special bit of kit
to give it extra strength.

This is what's going to give
this boot durability?

That's absolutely right.

This is done on the Puritan machine.

So, there are three heavy chain
stitches that go in here.

Been doing it like this
since the 1890s.

Three needles sew
three precise rows,

with each stitch looped and
knotted to firmly lock it

into the next, like a chain.

Called the Puritan stitch after the
company in America that invented it,

it was used for hard-wearing
military boots.

This is the big, heavy-duty stitch.

There's very little
chance of that coming apart.

GREGG STRAINS

All right.

Fair point.

My pair of uppers has a grand total
of 3,000 stitches.

But I'm not making slip-ons,
so I need to make some holes

for the laces on the eyelet machine.

The 16 metal eyelets prevent the
laces from tearing the leather...

..and ensure that my boots will have
a long working life ahead of them.

Now, many boots are designed with
a practical use in mind.

But when it comes to coping with
the Great British weather,

more often than not, we turn to the
good old-fashioned Wellington boot.

Cherry's been finding out how
this outdoor essential is made.

Not much beats
the simple pleasure

of going for a walk,

providing you've got the
right footwear.

Whether you're a kid, or a big kid
like me, one of the best bits

of an outdoor adventure is getting
really muddy and wet.

So, to really make a splash,
children, in particular,

need Wellington boots that
can take a good soaking.

But how are these tiny
waterproof warriors made?

To find out, I'm heading to
JuJu Shoes in Northampton -

the last factory in the UK
still making them.

Factory manager Roger Judge...

Hello, Roger, how are you?

..is preparing a prehistoric batch.

Are you coming to see us make
some dinosaur wellies today?

Are we making dinosaur
wellies today? Yeah.

But, I mean, that's not really
a welly, is it?

It's a sock.

How is this going to turn
into a Wellington boot?

We've got to go down and
put these on the machine.

Follow me. Lead the way, Roger.

Now, when he says machine...

Oh, wow, Roger.

..what he really means is a magical
welly-making merry-go-round

that produces a quarter of
a million pairs a year.

And the process starts with
a very dainty looking mould.

This is adorable.

What a teeny tiny little metal boot.

These aluminium booties
are called lasts,

forming the shape around which
my wellies will be moulded.

So, we have to put the sock
onto the last.

You're pulling it really tight?
Yeah.

How does it work?

It works by injecting PVC
onto the sock.

So, you put PVC onto a sock? Yeah.

So, we put the sock on first,

and then we put a clear PVC on top,
just so it'll work.

So, the pattern on a welly boot
isn't on the boot?

No, that pattern is actually
on the sock.

My mind is blown.

Clear PVC pellets are sucked
into the machine

and heated to a temperature
of 165 degrees,

ready to be injected
into the moulds,

which are also welly-shaped.

Red PVC is also loaded into the
machine to make the sole.

So, my socks are snugly attached
to the last,

and my warm PVC is loaded,
melted and ready.

So, Cherry, if you want to turn
that button there? All right.

It's showtime!

And round and round she goes!

First, 20g of the red PVC is
injected into the sole mould.

Woo!

There it is, fresh off the press.

And that is one welly boot sole.

Yeah. It's very beautiful.

With the sole back in place,

the dinosaur sock is lowered
into the boot mould.

It's clamped shut...

..and 40g of scorching clear PVC
is injected at a force of 80 psi

to surround the sock and
bond it to the red sole.

After five seconds,
the PVC sets hard like glue,

creating a waterproof 3mm
layer around the sock.

And I can't wait to get
my hands on one.

Wahey!

Can I? Yeah, go for it.
All right.

Hey-hey!

A freshly baked welly!

It's funny, because wellies
to me are covered in mud

and always freezing cold, and here
is a fresh, clean, warm welly.

The excess material is trimmed,

and then it's time for my boots
to be put through their paces -

at the lab with Mike George.

What does this machine test?

This machine tests the flexing
endurance of the sole of the boot.

The 30-hour programme replicates
the strain of 50,000 soggy steps.

And it doesn't end there.

A friction test checks the
slip resistance of the sole

in dry and wet conditions.

How did it do?

Very well indeed,
passed with flying colours.

But the final test is probably
the most important.

This is the whole boot water
penetration resistance test.

Is it also called the jumping
in a puddle test?

Yes, indeed.

The wellies are submerged
into a tank of water

and flexed 15,000 times
to check for leaks.

1,000, 1,001, 1,002, 1,003.

And, finally, Mike grants my batch
of wellies his seal of approval.

Well, there we go - a tried
and tested Wellington boot -

ready for whatever the British
weather, and the muckiest children,

can throw at it.

Back at the boot factory
in Northamptonshire,

I'm nearly four hours
into production.

The leather upper pieces
have been cut,

scraped and sewn together.

I'm making a pair -
but which foot is which?

So, I'm heading over to lasting...

..to find out from operative
Tanya Granaham.

Tanya. Hello.

So, this is where they become
a left and right boot.

So, in the closing room,
both feet are exactly the same.

This is the first bit where
we get a left and right.

This is the last.

It's like a Dutch clog.

So, it's the mould that our boot
gets made around.

It's the shape of our foot.

They all come in different sizes.

Why are they called a last?

These are called lasts because it's
the start of the final stage.

It comes from the Italian
translation, il fina,

which means final form.

It's the beginning of the end.
The beginning of the end.

Right, OK.

A left or right insole made
from fibre board

is taped onto the bottom of
a left or right shaped last.

There we go.

But before we can attach it to my
upper, we need to shape the heel.

So, I'm just going to hold it
onto the clamp.

These squeeze it together,

so I'm going to keep my fingers
completely out of the way.

The plastic stiffener inside
the heel is baked

at 100 degrees for 25 seconds,
softening it into shape,

until it emerges like a warm bun
fresh out of the oven.

We hot foot from one to the other.

But this boot bakery seems to
be blowing hot AND cold.

What temperature is that?

So, these currently are set
at minus 13.

Oh, wow. So, you can feel...

Oh!

I didn't expect that.

That's properly freezing.
Yeah, it's very cold.

The metal mould is chilled using
a coolant, like a fridge-freezer.

So, very, very hot to shape it.

Very, very cold to stop
it moving shape.

And the shaping treatments
don't stop there.

Now it's the turn of my toes.

So, we've got a sauna here
to begin with.

A sauna? A sauna, yeah!

This is your pair of boots.
If you want to pop them in?

Right, excuse me.

I'm going to the sauna.

This boot spa gently
steams the uppers

at 42-degree heat and 23% humidity.

There's a tray at the bottom
filled with water, which heats up...

Ah! It's steaming the uppers.

Ah! So it's getting that leather
nice and soft,

ready for us to stretch.

So Deano's doing yours now.

Deano stretches the soft toe leather
right around the toe cap

and the yellow last
which is wedged inside.

One for the left foot
and another for the right.

The insole on the bottom of the last
is also glued to the leather upper

for the first time.

So now we have to inspect them.

So to make sure that
the toe lasting's done properly,

we want our leather completely tight
over our last.

So, an old cobbler's term
is "knock on wood".

Lasts used to be made of wood,
not plastic.

And if that is pulled nice
and tight to your last,

it means you're having a good day.

So if you could knock the wood,
it was all good.

Yes - knock on wood, all good.

HOLLOW TAPPING

I'm very concerned

that you are sticking a big
plastic foot inside the boot

and we won't get it out.

Thanks, Deano!

From Deano's boot sauna,
we're moving on to what looks like

the aquarium section of the factory.

So in this tank, we've got our welt.

That's like a...
It's like a tank of eels!

SHE LAUGHS
No, seriously! Hang on, hang on.

What is that? That's your welt?

Yeah, so this is made out of PVC,
and it's going to get stitched

around the outside of your boot,
which everything else

is going to get attached onto.
Right.

So it's where the upper
joins the sole?

Yeah.

Why is it wet?

It's basically to lube up
through the machine.

You keep a tank of rubber eels
you call welts... Yes.

..and you sew those to your boots?
Yes.

The wet PVC welt is fed into
a sturdy sewing machine

and a yellow nylon thread is coated
in wax and punched through the welt,

the leather and the insole.

The wax seals the stitch holes,
to help with waterproofing.

You've put this through wax and
you put your welt through water?

Yes.

And then it all gets sewn
onto the boot.

Extraordinary!

But are you also aware that
there's dirty, great, big,

yellow plastic feet in there?
As long as you are.

I now have a left and right pair
of uppers,

but they're missing
something vital -

a sturdy sole with a good bit
of grip.

Having the right pair of boots
is especially important when

playing sport, a lesson the England
football team learned the hard way,

as Ruth has been finding out.

LAUGHTER

The best players make
football look so easy.

RUTH LAUGHS

And these days, there's also
a lot of attention paid

to their cleverly-engineered boots.

But they weren't always quite
so high-tech.

Back in the 1940s, the boots of
professional British footballers,

like Sir Stanley Matthews,

were very different.

Inside the National Football Museum,

curator Dr Alexander Jackson has
an original pair from the period.

So, these are sort of typical boots
of what they'd be wearing

in the '40s and '50s in Britain,
very good for wet weather.

Like, if you have got a game
in Bolton or Stoke,

they are very strong... HOLLOW TAPPING

..there on the toe.
High ankle guard.

Very stiff, very English boots.
They're for playing in mud?

Yeah.

Unbelievably, it was
heavy-duty boots like these

that Stanley Matthews
and the England team

took to the 1950 World Cup.

17 of England's soccer
players are seen about to leave

London Airport for their flight
to Rio for the World Cup contest.

We're going to try our very,
very best to bring the World Cup

back to England for you.

The team arrived in balmy Brazil
as favourites to win,

but this was their first experience
of playing on hard and dry

South American pitches rather than
boggy British winter grass.

And in one of the biggest
World Cup upsets of all time,

they lost an easy group match
to the USA,

a team of complete amateurs.

Could the blame be laid
at the England camp's feet?

WHISTLE BLOWS

Let's say how you do in these!

To find out if the bulky boots could
have caused this World Cup crisis,

we've kitted out
local Manchester team Abbey Hey...

Quite heavy, aren't they?

..in replicas of England's
1950s boots.

Come on, boys! Let's get back to it!

Engerland!

Just like the boys
who went to Brazil,

my team is kicking off on
a dry pitch.

And Dr Katrine Kryger, an expert
in sports technology,

is appraising their performance.

So, does the boot really make
that much difference?

I mean, surely it's all about
the skill of the player.

Boots can make a huge impact.

Just look at the guys on the pitch
today. They're really struggling.

And that was the same with
the England players going out,

playing on dry, flat, nice pitches
in Brazil.

Stanley Matthews, one of
the best players, defined them

as really heavy
and it made him slow down.

And he wasn't very agile in them.

Unsurprisingly, our footballers
are also weighed down

by the vintage boots.

I'm giving up! SHE LAUGHS

Normally, I'm a top class player,
but with these, game over.

It feels clunky.
Not as, like, nimble on your feet.

It's kind of hard to run fast
in these.

The 1950 World Cup squad
felt the same...

..especially when they saw
the best South American teams

wearing lightweight boots.

And with their last, must-win
group match looming,

the FA sent an SOS back home
to Dunlop,

famous for making rubber tyres
and wellies,

placing an urgent order for some
revolutionary British football boots

that would soon make the headlines.

Well, this is a newspaper article
from 1950.

It says that the workers at the
factory worked overtime last weekend

to turn out a pair
for each member of the team.

Today, they were put on a plane,
leaving London Airport for Rio.

A factory just turned around like
that, made them over the weekend

and shipped them across?
That's extraordinary!

It's absolutely crazy,
but that's what happened.

The lightweight rubber and
canvas boots made it to Brazil

in the nick of time for
the deciding game against Spain.

Did it work?

Some of the English players
just stuck with the old boot

and, long story short,
England lost 1-0 to Spain

and they were out of the World Cup!

But the boot lived on?
The boot lived on.

WHISTLE BLOWS

The lightweight boots did not lead
England to 1950s World Cup glory,

but they did kick-start
the development of the less bulky,

more flexible, high-tech
football boots that we have today.

Inside the factory,
I'm six hours into production,

and the upper part of my boot
has been shaped and welted.

Now, all they need is a bit of sole.

So for my waterproof bottoms,

I'm meeting up with my sole-mate,
Pete Wilson.

Pete! Hello, my friend. How are you?

I need soles!

You've come to the right place.

What are they made out of?
PVC pellets.

Cor! That's like a sack of spuds.

So how much of this stuff do you go
through? Three tonnes a week.

Three tonne of this a week?! Yep.

So how many soles are you making
a week?

About 4,000 pair a week.

Wow! Can I have a go?

You can have a go.

740g of PVC pellets are sucked up
into the injection moulding machine.

Press them buttons. Let go. Whoa!

They're heated to 104 degrees...

..and the molten liquid plastic
is injected into the mould.

That is the way we make
every single pair of soles.

And it takes this long?

It takes about 27.8 seconds
to make that pair of soles.

There you go.

Can I get this out?
You certainly can. Can I use this?

Yes, please, sir.

That's not hot! The moulds are
chilled down to about nine degrees.

That's what cools the soles down
so quickly.

That's a clever old machine,
that is, innit, Pete?

Cleverer than me.

Thank you. That was fascinating.
Yeah. I have my soles!

PETE LAUGHS

To attach them to my leather upper,

I hotfooted over to the queen
of heat sealing...

..Mary McNamee.

Mary? Hiya!

Can you give me some soles?
Of course I can!

Thank you.

First, a red hot iron heats
the PVC sole,

sticking it like glue
onto the black PVC welt

that was stitched to the bottom
of the leather upper.

Now we come over to the heat
sealer - which is this machine here,

which was invented in the '50s -
to melt the sole to the welt.

The key to this ground-breaking
70-year-old process

is the steel blade, which is heated
to 700 degrees.

You ready?

Yeah.

Whoa!

The fiery blade burns its way
between the PVC welt and the sole,

melting and fusing them together.

And as they cool and seal, it traps
pockets of air above the sole

for added comfort.

That was literally on fire.
That WAS literally on fire.

That is seriously,
seriously impressive.

How many shoes do you do a day?

360 pairs a day.

Wow! Yeah.

When you close your eyes at night,
do you have revolving boots?

Yeah. I count boots, not sheep!

Fully sealed, the soles are trimmed
by Gemma Atkins.

Just three millimetres is removed,

with a fine blade rotating at
1,500 revolutions a minute,

leaving the edges clean and smooth.

There we go!

What are they?

So, these are a pair of boots
that I've made for my wedding.

You're going to wear them
on your wedding day? Yes!

Can I have a look? Yeah, of course!

What does that say on the back?

So it says "Till death",
just like "Till death do us part"

from the wedding vows.
There is some serious statement.

It's like the one time that you get
to do something like that,

so why not? That's brilliant!

There's something I need to ask you.

Before you do get married... Yep.
..something's been troubling me. OK.

How do you get this yellow
plastic foot out?

I'll show you how to do that.
Yep. If I take that for you...

So, all it takes is
the last removing machine.

No more yellow foot!

It does come out!

At last!

So close! GREGG GROANS

Yes!

I have got a lovely pair of boots,
but what I haven't got is any laces.

No worries. If you head that way,
they'll grab you some.

Thank you for that. You're welcome!

You know, there are some bits of
a boot you really can't do without,

like laces. But how are they made?

Cherry has been tying herself
in knots trying to find out.

CHERRY GROANS

Most of us tie up our shoelaces
at least once a day

to keep our shoes firmly
on our feet.

But what is the secret
to a good shoelace?

To unravel the mystery, I'm heading
inside a factory in Leicester

which makes more than 1,500 miles of
shoe and bootlaces every year.

Dips Kalsi is my guide.

Hello, Dips! Lovely to meet you!
Hi, Cherry.

Right, I want some really colourful,
really strong shoelaces.

So what we'd recommend
is the round shoelaces... OK.

..because they're more durable.

They have a centre core,
which makes them a lot stronger.

My shoelace begins with large reels
of fine polyester yarn.

Is that strong?
It's stronger than cotton.

Come on. That's not going to last
a minute!

So to make it stronger
for my red and white laces,

four reels of each colour
are loaded onto a winding machine

and are connected to smaller reels
called bobbins.

If we press the lever down
and hold it...

I get to press a lever? You do.

Woohoo! Here we go!

The four strands of each colour
are wound together onto the bobbins,

creating a thicker, single thread.

This is now fourfold strong?
Fourfold.

Ooh, it's finished, it's finished,
it's finished! Ah, look at that!

The small red and white bobbins
will be used

for the outside
of my shoelace later,

but what gives the lace its real
strength is a thick polyester core.

OK, so this is
a knit braiding machine.

They look like little tiny
knitting needles!

They are. So you can start off
by that green button.

Well, it's not slow!

It's so fast, I can now no longer
see the knitting needles at all.

To see how the mechanism works,
Dips slows it right down.

OK, so the needles come up,
grab the yarn...

OK. ..turn... Turn. ..lock it...
Lock it. ..and pull it down.

Just like knitting - except for...

Instead of with two needles,
there's four. That's right.

So it starts off as 12 strands,

and here they've been
knitted together.

This is the fastest granny
in the world!

The strong white core is now ready
for its colourful exterior,

made from the red and white yarn
I wound before.

Wow! This is a beautiful machine.

Yeah, this is the braiding machine.
Gorgeous!

The core is threaded up
through the centre.

The core is in. What now?

We're going to load the bobbins.

Here's one I made earlier!

Is it time to put this one
into action? It is.

I load my bobbin onto the carrier
and carefully connect the thread.

Yay! Yay!

Dips speedily adds the remaining
23 bobbins - 18 red and six white.

It's time to turn it on.

OK, so hold this. Like this?

Yeah. OK? OK.

And you start the machine.

MACHINE STARTS,
CHERRY SCREAMS

It really is like maypole dancing,
but just...at 100 miles an hour!

318 rotations per minute.

It's a bit faster than
I can maypole, I'll be honest.

So in the same way that I plait
my daughter's hair,

by wrapping one bit of hair
over the other

and then pulling the other one,
that's doing the same thing?

So it's braiding around
the central core? Yes.

So how many single strands of yarn,
like the one we started with,

go into this?

A total of 128.

So is this 128 times stronger?

It is.

Finally, a tagging machine
cuts the laces to size,

and an acetate strip is heated to
form a seal around the ends,

making what's pleasingly called
an aglet.

That's the finished shoelace?

Each pair has used a staggering
350 metres of yarn...

Look at that! Braided to
within an inch of their lives,

finally, my laces are strong
and colourful!

..perfect for keeping my favourite
old boots firmly on my feet.

Back in Northamptonshire,

after just over eight hours,
my boots are nearly finished.

And they're getting ready for
their laces over in the shoe room.

But first, they must be approved
by the boot inspector herself,

Lucy Outhwaite.

Hello, Lucy! Hi, Gregg!

This is hair and make-up
for the boots.

Hair and make-up? Hair and make-up.

There is no way they can go
in the box looking like this.

This is not boot polish, is it?
No, it's a water-based cleaner.

It's just to make it look nice,
get rid of the dirt,

you know, just removing
all the stitch marks

that got put on
when it was in closing.

Right, that bit's easy. That's just
like polishing your boots.

No, you got to put some elbow grease
into it.

Oh, I see. You've really got
to scrub...

Yeah. ..to get rid of the ma...
Oh, OK.

No-one's going to notice!
They will. Or I will!

You find yourself looking at people
when you're on the train.

If they're wearing Docs,
you check to see

that they're finished properly. And
you see people at gigs wearing them,

and I'm always looking.

The boots are given a sticker
if they pass final inspection.

If you pick up both,
put them next to each other.

Now, if you roll it around slightly
in your hands,

you're looking at how the light
plays across the leather.

Do they match? Do they look right?

Have they got eight eyelets
on each side? Yes.

So we're happy.
We're really, really happy.

You've actually got some stickers.

We've made you
an honorary inspector.

Hey!

That's brilliant!

Oh, wow! Inspected by you!

I'm really chuffed by that.

My boots have finally earned
their laces.

I said, "You're a shoelace,"
he said, "I'm a frayed knot!"

Can't help it, can you?

Perfect!

Are you happy with them?

I am ludicrously proud of these.

Thank you very much indeed.
You're very welcome.

Polished, buffed, everything -
brilliant!

After nine hours and 19 minutes,
my pair of boots are boxed up

and are ready to head out the door
over in dispatch...

..where I'm meeting up with
my old pal Steve!

They're my boots on there, right?
Yep, there they go. Fabulous!

How many pairs of boots on a pallet?

There's 180 pairs of boots
on a pallet?

So how many is on the truck?
Nearly 3,000.

Wow! That's a serious amount
of boots. Yep.

And how do you feel when you see
a lorry-load of your boots go out?

Yeah, I feel proud, yeah.

Pleased to see them go,
but I'm proud.

There's a lot of dry, comfy feet
in there.

That's the plan!

Listen, shall we see it off? Yep.
Dennis, off you go, son!

Very special pair of boots
you got on there, Dennis,

lovingly made! By your own hand!
Absolutely, mate!

I've loved this process.
It's been brilliant.

Every year, the factory makes
over 180,000 pairs of boots.

Londoners tie up most in the UK.

And they stride across more than
60 countries worldwide,

with America and Japan really loving
this British bootie.

Before I started this process,
if you'd have told me

that so many of the phrases we use
every day come from boot-making,

well, I would have thought
you were talking cobblers.

Whether it's revamping or skiving,

what does impress me is the care
and attention and traditional craft

that go into making
every single pair of boots.

And I just hope somebody somewhere
appreciates my handiwork.

and I don't need an excuse