Now that I had decided where would I go?

It's not that I wanted another pair of cute shoes. A good pair of shoes is a necessity. Really. (Is there a woman alive who hasn't said that?)

I have feet issues, big time. I wear a size 12 in ladies' shoes, and in athletic shoes, a men's size 10 1/2. Did I mention I have fallen arches and huge bunions? Needless to say, my feet always need help.

After more than 40 years of pushing around rolling racks as a fashion coordinator, I decided that it was time to invest in a good shoe. My giant feet were sending me a message: Get some fashionable shoes with comfort. With this in mind and credit card in hand, I decided to listen and invest in some custom-made shoes.

Great idea. But how do I find these "investment shoes"? Lucky for me, I was about to go on a trip to Italy where the finest shoemakers in the world would surround me. Surely it would be a breeze to find relief for my poor old feet. I travel to Italy every two years and have noticed the small, quaint shops of handmade leather shoes, but I never thought about having a pair made.

Now that I had decided, where would I go? I could just wander the streets and by chance happen upon a shoe shop, but I had a better idea. I turned to the Internet and found some likely candidates. Then, I decided that I would e-mail my friends in Florence and ask for their help in finding the perfect maestro calzola io (master shoemaker in Italian).

After all, my friends are top craftsmen in their own fields. Jean Saade, a third-generation jewelry shop owner, and Smilie Mimmo, a third-generation leather factory owner, both design fine handcrafted goods. I hoped they would help me find a shoemaker and would explain my wants and needs, rather than let me wave my hands around trying to explain my predicament with my limited Italian vocabulary. Within 24 hours, I had my answer. Yes, Jean and Smilie would help me. I decided the best and most versatile shoe for me was a ballet-type flat, with an orthotic built into the shoe and designed to avoid my bigger-than-Texas-size bunions.

Fast-forward a few months, our trip had finally begun. After a few days of traveling in Italy, my husband and I arrived in Florence and took a walk along the cobblestone streets, wandering off on a side street away from the hordes of tourists. Suddenly, I stopped in front of a tiny shop window. Like a scene out of a movie, an older Italian gentleman was sitting at his cobbler's bench slowly hammering tiny nails into a leather shoe. Apprentices, soaking up his every move, surrounded him. I remarked that I would just love it if "my shoemaker" could be just like this one.

Little did I know that the next day when my friend Smilie took me to meet his choice artisan, it would be the same man -- Calogero Mannina, a master shoemaker for more than 54 years and a second-generation shoe designer. I saw the framed articles in magazines and newspaper clippings from around the world claiming his talent. He was even featured in an exclusive book on elite Florentine artisans. I was sure that I was meant to have the best size 12 shoes that Italy could produce.

As we walked into his tiny workshop without an appointment, Smilie explained what I wanted. Surrounded by stacks of leather samples, nails and hammers, Mannina was ready to solve my foot problems with a shoe made of soft, beautiful Italian leather.

What color do you want? Round or pointed toe? What heel height?

As I conveyed my answers to Smilie, the Italian shoemaker's expertise put my fears to rest. He took a million notes, measured my orthotics and then sat me down on the worn bench, one end stacked high with shoeboxes and soon-to-be shoes. He began to trace my feet with a pencil onto paper, just how I remember my foot being measured as a child in the 1950s. Mannina meant business. He jotted down numbers and notes about my foot, in Italian, of course. The measuring and shoe talk was over in less than 20 minutes. Then we left the workshop and walked around to his storefront. It was a beautiful store full of shoes. Of course, those shoes were for people with normal-size feet, not my big size 12s.

Suddenly I remembered that I had forgotten to inquire how much my custom shoes would cost. As the kind, friendly craftsman handed me a form to complete with my mailing address back in the States, I started to panic. What if these shoes had "movie star" prices? After all, Mannina was pictured with lots of movie stars on the store's wall. I decided that I just would not shop for shoes for a year (or maybe more!) and surely that would offset the price of my custom shoes. When Smilie asked him the price, I already had my credit card out, ready to bite the bullet.

After Smilie told me the price, I realized that my math had been correct: No shoes for a year or so. That worked for me because now I would have wonderful custom-made shoes that would last forever. And if I did wear them out or want another style, Mannina would have my shoe pattern and my wooden form filed right there with all the movie stars'. All I would have to do is e-mail and give him my credit card number and another pair would soon be on the way!

Mannina explained that I should expect the handcrafted shoes in about a month. This talented artisan makes only one pair of shoes each day with the great care and pride. Why would I rush this dying art? I would be happy to wait.

Mannina and I walked out of the shop practically hand-in-hand. He wished me well, gave me a kiss on each cheek and a big hug and off I went. I received my custom-made Italian leather shoes nine weeks and one day after purchasing them. They fit like a glove. The leather wraps around my bunions with no pain and is even softer than I remembered back in Mannina's shop. I wear the shoes practically night and day. My big feet and I are very happy and stylish, too!