Reimagining Product Development & Strategy—Through Shoemaking
A Season of Beginnings
In Japan, April marks not only the start of the fiscal and academic year, but also a symbolic renewal. It is when cherry blossoms bloom—a season that represents fresh starts, farewells, and aspirations. For many, it’s the time to take a bold step forward into a new stage of life.
It was during this season of renewal, in March 2024, that I felt compelled to challenge myself with something new—something personal, tangible, and yet deeply connected to the strategic work I lead professionally in product and business development.
Despite my day-to-day role as a strategist helping shape future-facing innovations, I found myself drawn to a deceptively simple yet profound question: How many of us have ever driven an entire product—from concept to delivery—entirely on our own?
Outside of startups, this full-spectrum experience is rare. It’s uncommon to ideate, design, build, refine, and release a product with one’s own hands. I wanted to experience that—to step outside frameworks and teams and immerse myself in the raw essence of creation. So I went looking for a product I could build from scratch. That search led me, unexpectedly, to shoes.
Discovering a Craft
I’ve long had an interest in the arts—drawing, pottery, writing—but these felt too abstract or detached from the structured product lifecycle I wanted to experience. Then one day, walking through the city, I noticed the incredible diversity of footwear around me. Each pair told a story—of function, fashion, personality, and craft. That was it: shoes.
I found a bespoke shoemaking workshop in Tokyo and enrolled. There, I learned from seasoned shoemakers alongside a wonderfully diverse group—young apprentices chasing dreams, weekend hobbyists, international students drawn by Japanese craftsmanship, and even designers from European luxury brands seeking new perspectives.
It was inspiring. But more than that, it became clear that shoemaking was not just a craft—it was a microcosm of product development, complete with concept creation, prototyping, iterative refinement, and real user feedback.
Building a Pair—From First Sketch to Final Stitch
I gave myself a clear goal: to craft an entire pair of leather Oxford shoes by hand before the end of the year. With only weekends available, time management and process control were key.
I began by defining the user—myself—and taking precise measurements. Then came the concept phase: formal Oxford shoes with a modern edge, versatile enough for semi-casual occasions. I conducted light market research, interviewed users, and explored bespoke shoemaking’s business models. I was struck by how a single pair—crafted for £6,000 by a top British shoemaker—could deliver not just comfort and elegance, but a lifelong relationship between maker and wearer.
This idea of a product not just as an object, but as a relationship, deeply resonated with me.
With a concept in place, I designed the shoe on paper. Every curve and proportion needed to translate into three dimensions. Oxford shoes, with their clean lines and closed lacing, demand subtlety—slight changes in toe cap shape or vamp height can dramatically alter the impression. Even at this stage, the design had to balance aesthetics with functionality and comfort.
Next came the prototype. I traced my drawings onto a wooden last and created paper patterns that were used to cut leather components. Assembling them into a 3D form revealed minor adjustments needed—for instance, refining the throat line for better fit and symmetry.
Then, using the final leather, I stitched and assembled the real pair. Each step demanded intense focus. Any deviation, even by a millimeter, could compromise the entire product. I discovered that shoemaking tools—knives, awls, hammers, glue—were masterpieces of precision, designed for very specific functions. Mastery came not just from using them, but from knowing when and how to adapt them.
Finally, I removed the finished shoes from the last, applying oil beforehand to prevent the leather from overstretching. After months of careful work, I completed the pair in December—on time, and true to the original vision.
When I wore them, they fit perfectly. And when others saw them, they appreciated what I had hoped to achieve: a shoe that was formal yet modern, structured yet expressive. It felt like more than just craftsmanship—it felt like product strategy made tangible.
Insights Beyond the Workshop
Shoemaking revealed, in tactile form, the very principles I work with in business:
A clear concept, grounded in user needs.
Design choices that reflect and reinforce that concept.
Material and functional optimization.
Consistent execution across every stage of development.
The importance of coherence stood out most. Even the best ideas fail when execution lacks consistency. In shoemaking, a single misaligned stitch can cascade into structural flaws. The same is true in product development: if design and delivery drift apart, the final product will not reflect the intended value, and feedback becomes misaligned or misleading.
I also came to appreciate tools in a new way. In the workshop, tools serve the craft—not the other way around. You don’t use a tool because it’s trendy or standard. You use it because it’s right for the job—or you modify it to fit. For example, I learned to bend needles with heat to sew through multiple layers of leather via a single hole—a solution that would never emerge from relying on off-the-shelf tools alone.
This mindset translates directly to tech and business. Are we selecting tools, platforms, or partners that best serve our product vision? Or are we bending our products to fit our tools?
Back to Business—with New Perspective
This experience sharpened how I view my professional work. In hardware and software development alike, success hinges on well-defined architectures, aligned teams, and design that reflects real user needs. Features should be intentional, not ornamental. Materials—whether lines of code or third-party components—must be chosen for purpose, not convenience.
And above all, development should be coherent from concept to launch. Fragmented teams or siloed projects make this hard, but not impossible. Shared vision, continuous feedback, and deliberate collaboration are the glue.
We must also rethink the role of tools. It’s easy to default to industry norms or convenient APIs, but lasting value comes from strategic fit. If needed, we should explore custom alternatives or rethink dependencies—always with an eye toward sustainable, scalable development.
© 2025 Masato Nagayoshi
