MAKING shoes for Morris dancers is not all it is clogged up to be.
That is according to Phil Howard, an ex-dancer turned clog maker, who made a rare trip to Saddleworth for its 50th Rushcart Festival.
The event, one of two in the entirety of the UK, sees Morris dancers from across the country gather to show off their skills and meet up en-masse.
Between them, they guide a 16ft tall, three-tonne cart through the villages before finally landing at St Chad’s Church, Uppermill.
Thousands of visitors flocked to Saddleworth to see some of the UK’s finest teams – many of whom wearing shoes made by Phil himself.
But despite the dozens of groups reviving one of Britain’s oldest traditions, it is a custom he fears may one day be in jeopardy – for he is one of the last clog makers in the entire country.
“There’s something about five people I could list who are making a business out of it,” Phil told the Saddleworth Independent.
“I started as a dancer and knew nothing about them, and in the early 1980s, I gradually drifted into making them for my kids, my wife, and others. From there, it’s just grown rather gradually.”
British clogs are made of a combination of wood and leather, a far cry from the all-wooden shoes seen in northern Europe.
The ‘upper’, or top of the shoe, is traditionally stitched by hand, and typically made with several pieces of leather to look like an Oxford shoe.
Meanwhile, the type of wood used to make the sole may vary depending on what tools the cobbler uses to make the shoe. For Morris dancers, this is usually sycamore, which makes a particularly loud sound when hit.
“Rivalry is endemic throughout anything people do,” Phil added. “There are all these little things: the step dancers might opt for something slightly plainer, because they’re doing flashy steps, but the Morris dancers are going for much more bling and much more show because they use their best clogs for dancing.
“If you look at the costumes of the dancers, it’s really their best clothes. Their best trousers, their best clogs, and more bells to make them flashier. ‘What can we do that makes our team flashier than the other team?’.”
All the UK’s clog makers are above the age of 55 and Heritage Crafts, a national charity which aims to further traditional craft skills, has long listed it as a ‘critically endangered skill’.
They say it has become harder than ever for clog makers to keep their businesses afloat as cobblers report more difficulties in accessing materials, particularly after Brexit and the Covid-19 pandemic.
Shoemakers working in urban areas may find it harder to build workshop spaces as more brownfield sites are developed for housing, forcing many to work from inside their own homes.
They also point out that skills such as wood and leatherworking have become less accessible to younger people, as the numbers of teachers and students in design and technology classes have both more than halved.
20 per cent of schools in the UK now no longer teach the subject at all.
“It’s difficult,” Phil said. “I’ve got a little box that I keep the brass plates in, that go on the tip of the clog for a little bit of bling.
“That firm started in 1765 and closed decades ago. There’s no-one actually making any of those anymore.
“I found a way around to make the ones I use, but there’s no-one making clog irons either. All we use at the moment is leftovers from when they used to be made.
“I can still buy planks of wood, and I can still get leather, but it’s not the same leather it used to be even five or six years ago.
“When someone retires, you go and get what they’ve got left, then you carry on with it until it’s done.
“Since Covid, the number of clogs I make per year has halved, as there weren’t the people starting [Morris dancing].
“Like everything else, the number of clog makers will contract or increase depending on demand. And if you come along and say, ‘What am I doing about an apprentice taking over?’ My reply is, ‘What are you doing about increasing the demand?'”
Heritage Crafts now say that the only future for clogs is in orthopaedic footwear and dancing, a claim with which Phil agrees.
But he adds that there may be other ventures in which his skills could have a future.
“Once, a lady came along with her husband and another couple, and they do World War Two reenactments,” he continued.
“She came in with a pair of shoes that she bought, which had been first sold in Paris in the 1940s, and it had a wooden sole with a leather upper. She asked if it was possible to make something like that that would actually fit and it all went from there.
“I used to do another thing, more of a side hustle, for Props House in Manchester. They’d come along with a pile of luggage when I got home from my day job and say, ‘You need to put new handles on all this old-fashioned leather luggage.’
“There’d be a pile of Western gun belts to repair or remake, or a hat box, or Austrian telegram bag – there were lots of one offs.”
With dozens of people queuing outside his Saddleworth stall, Phil said he had no plans to put his feet up any time soon.
He is now preparing to travel to Clitheroe Castle on September 12, where he will give a display of his work as part of the 2026 Lancashire and Cheshire ‘ClogFest’ Championship.
It will feature a variety of handmade clogs and accessories available for purchase, plus the chance to learn more about what goes into making some of Britain’s most traditional footwear.
“It’s quite nice that I’m not a leather specialist, or a wood specialist,” he said. “I get to not concentrate on one thing, if I’m in the mood.
“I’m currently making some badges for a team as there’s an awful lot of waste [from making] the clogs, as cows don’t tend to come in square boxes. It’s very good for using up small bits of scrap.
“I work 20 seconds from home and get to walk into the workshops in the back garden. One is where I do the woodworking, and the other is where I do everything else.
“I design, manufacture, and repair clogs and leather items, and if I ever want to make new designs, I can do.
“I’d love if anyone would come along to me and say, ‘You know, those clogs you supplied me with last week, I went out dancing, got home, and collapsed on the sofa, and then realised I’d still got them on as I hadn’t noticed them’. I think that would be great.”
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