As global connectivity and hungry hobbyists have uncovered prodigious bootmakers in some of Asia’s most far-flung regions, Vietnam has stayed relatively quiet.
Even the most casual boot fan has likely heard of the brands in Indonesia’s Bandung like Sagara and Onderhoud, which have become so popular that the days of finding a handwelted Indonesian boot for under $200 are long gone (a development that should be applauded, of course).
Meanwhile, China has also been fostering shoemaking talent at every level, producing the terrific value of Meermin, the American-owned and Xiamen-made footwear of Grant Stone, the supernatural precision of Guangzhou’s Iron Boots, and tiny workshops like Flame Panda and Quan.
Indian brands are a little newer to American audiences, but recent years have seen the rise of Blkbrd Shoemaker’s hand welting, Bridlen’s channeled-insole Goodyear welted ware, and Craft & Glory’s desi take on Americana.
The list goes on (Japan, duh), but if Vietnam is known for any high end shoe brands it’s the larger firms of CNES and Fugashin. What about the intoxicating archetype of the lone hand welter, the callused artisan on a mountaintop? Does Vietnam have a Flame Panda, an Østmo Bootmaker, or a Kreosote?
As far as we can tell, there’s one. His name is Trung, and his shop is Akito Boots.
Trung works with his master, Mr. Lam Le, whose expertise with Blake-stitched, European-style dress shoes complements his self-taught expertise in hand welted, US-style boots. Mr. Lam Le only designs shoes for the Vietnamese market. Trung did indeed need to teach himself the skills for which he is best known—skills that are hard to come by in Saigon.
That’s because while Vietnam was controlled by a European power for much of the 19th and 20th centuries, they didn’t bring bootmaking with them like the Dutch did to Indonesia, seeding the flourishing scene in modern Bandung.
Vietnam was part of French Indochina, and as Trung tells it in our interview below, the French brought “dress shoe culture” with them instead. Western-style shoes made in Vietnam are much more likely to be dressy oxfords than veg-tan monkey boots. Trung’s unusual interest in hand-welted boots was seeded by American movies, online menswear, and an early career as a shoe salesman. The difficulty he had in finding an American boot that fit the Vietnamese foot—another reason they’re not so widespread there—ignited Trung’s drive to build his own brand.
Karl Wasson is an American who has been living in Ho Chi Minh City for the last ten years, and he’s been hearing whispers about the city’s mysterious handwelter for some time. On a recent visit, we decided to track him down and see what else we could learn about him.
The first thing we saw when we walked into his store? His 2023-24 entry in the Stitchdown Patina Thunderdome.
Nick: Trung, thank you for having us in your store here today in Ho Chi Minh. How old is Akito, the brand?
Trung: I started Akito in 2018, so we’ve been open for about five years.
Nick: How many people are making hand-welted boots in Ho Chi Minh City?
Trung: I don’t think there are that many. The two most popular handmade shoemakers in Vietnam are Fugashin and CNES. They sometimes offer special hand-welted lines, but most are Goodyear welted.
Nick: This way of making resoleable, durable leather footwear. Is it Western? Is there a tradition of making resoleable footwear in Vietnam? What’s a common kind of durable shoe that people wear in Vietnam?
Trung: The history of these shoes in Vietnam started when the French arrived. When the French came here, they brought along the dress shoe culture. The Vietnamese then learned to make shoes as the French did. This is different from Indonesia, which started with boots due to its being a Dutch colony. Vietnam started with dress shoes.
Trung: What’s the inspiration for having a hand-welted line in Vietnam? Why is that something that you gravitated towards, given it’s so uncommon here?
Trung: After I graduated from high school I didn’t know much about dressing well. I started exploring different styles, but I had no idea how to go about it. But the “casual workwear” style from the United States started to click with me. The items suited me very well, and I felt very comfortable with style — more so than the Asian styles. Those were my first impressions.
My first first three boot brands were Bed Stu, Frye, and Red Wings.
Trung: So you got into Americana style, you realized that basically no one was doing this in Vietnam, and you saw a gap in the market, and you decided to start learning bootmaking?
Trung: Well, actually, before I became a shoemaker, I was a shoe seller. I brought to Vietnam a lot of brands like Red Wing, Truman, Oak Street Bootmakers, and Pacific Northwest brands like White’s, Nicks, and Wesco. Over time, these brands became part of my style as I experimented with them, and that experience taught me a lot about how a good pair of boots should be made.
Trung: The Blake stitch and Goodyear welt were invented in the 19th century, but they’re foreign inventions, aren’t they. How does this differ from traditional Vietnamese footwear?
Trung: Sandals and sneakers.
Nick: Sandals and sneakers. So it’s just always been a part of life, that—like, five hundred years ago you’d work in sandals and when the sandals break, you just buy new sandals.
Trung: For daily wear, the Vietnamese wear sneakers. For office hours, they would wear dress shoes.
Karl: You mentioned that you started because there was a need for repairing and fixing boots. What was the jump like from doing mostly repairs to creating your first pair of boots?
Trung: It’s sort of a family tradition. My mother is a long-time seamstress. Working with my hands and inventing new products is fun, so I always wanted to create handmade products. As I learned to resole, I realized that I could do this on my own.
Another important fact: When Vietnamese wear foreign shoes, they don’t really fit them snugly. That was the second reason to start a brand. There was a need for a Vietnamese brand that sells boots that fit our feet perfectly. And when they have any resoling or customization needs, they can get those services here.
Nick: When you make shoes designed for Vietnamese feet, how are they different to the Western brands that you encountered?
Trung: After selling foreign boots for a while, as I took measurements from my customers I realized foreigners would measure their sizing from the heel to the toe. For the Vietnamese sizing system, it’s actually from the heel to the forefoot. Taking measurements this way yields better results, because Vietnamese have shorter toes compared to Westerners.
Secondly, Vietnamese people have a high-volume dorsum; the forefront section of the boot needs to be wider and the heel to be smaller.
Nick: It’s funny hearing people talk about the sort of differences in the way feet tend to work between countries. When I go to European brands, they’ll say we sell totally different lasts to our US customers than we do in Europe because there’s even a difference between the European foot and the American foot.
And then, of course, you also take into account that different countries and different cultures find different things comfortable. For example, I was just with Justin Fitzpatrick in New York, and he was telling me how his French customers wear their shoes, especially their loafers, really tight. And that’s comfortable to them, when it really just conforms to the foot—they interpret that as a secure fit, whereas a lot of Americans would find that uncomfortable.
So, yeah, it’s not just the literal physical dimensions of the foot that changes between countries, what people find comfortable does as well. There’s also a mental and cultural element to it. But how did you learn to make boots, especially to handwelt them? It must take a long time to learn, especially when it’s not really part of Vietnam’s footwear tradition.
Trung: Regarding technical skills, I learned a lot from YouTube—some cobblers and ex-shoemakers post detailed videos about resoling and construction. As I resoled shoes from other brands, I would check to see how they did it on their channels.
Karl: Most independent shoemakers we talk to have a mentor, a master, or they go to shoemaking school. How did you solve that problem?
Trung: I also have a mentor: a cobbler here in Ho Chi Minh City who has over 30 years of experience in shoemaking. However, he only designs and makes shoes for the Vietnamese market. So we have to work together: I have the theoretical knowledge, he has the practical skills. We work together as a team to make high quality, hand welted shoes with the same standards as Americans and the rest of the world.
Karl: So you developed your own style by combining your master’s knowledge of Blake stitch construction and your knowledge of hand welting and Western-style work boots. What’s your most popular style?
Trung: It depends on the customers’ needs. My customers include students, bikers, office workers, etc. Each customer segment has their own preferred shoes. Office workers prefer flat-toe, unstructured shoes. Casual collectors may enjoy service boots more. Bikers would prefer work boots.
Some models fit European feet better. My service boot, for example. When I was making the last, I based it on the 2015–2016 Truman last, when it had stitchdown construction. The last was different back then, but when I took a look at it and tried it, it felt comfier to me than the new Viberg 2030. That’s why this service boot model is really popular with my Western customers.
These three lasts—boondocker, service boot, and work boot—have different volumes and fits, and each would support a different wearing style. I have five more lasts, but those three are our core.
Boondockers fit Vietnamese feet especially well. They have a slightly wider forefoot and a snug heel. Work boots are roomier and more rugged—bikers really like them. Service Boots are a neutral middle ground and often appeal to Westerners.
Nick: You’ve also mentioned Japanese influences. What do you take from Japanese shoemaking?
Trung: The outside of my boots is influenced by American vintage work boots, but the inside—the fit, the materials, and construction details—owes a lot to Japanese shoemakers. They tend to build hand welted boots with superb arch support and a footbed shape that’s more comfortable for Asian feet. The interior is “Japanese,” but the exterior is in that classic American style.
Karl: We debate a lot about the benefits of hand welting. Is it worth the extra work for you and the extra cost for the customers? What would you say the benefits are of hand welting over Goodyear welting?
Trung: Firstly, the insole of hand welted shoes has to be molded to the last itself. In Goodyear welted shoes, they only have to attach the insole to the last, usually using machines.
In hand-welted construction, you stitch the upper, the welt, and the insole together by hand around a carefully molded last. So it’s more molded to the shape of the last. You also need to carve a channel into the insole to stitch the welt through, so when you stitch everything together the insole, upper, and welt will become a unified shape bound by stitches. So the boots are very durable, and can give a more “connected” feel underfoot.
With the canvas rib [aka “gemming”] construction of Goodyear shoes, it will come apart after a while. I have resoled so many shoes with torn apart canvas.
Nick: Switching topics a bit: many people who love heritage-style boots also enjoy raw denim, and I know you’re part of the (online) Vietnam Raw Denim Community. What’s your take on Vietnam’s raw denim scene?
Trung: There’s definitely overlap. Raw denim and hand-welted boots both emphasize sustainability and durability. We’re seeing a bigger shift here in Vietnam away from fast fashion, with more people adopting vintage or heritage looks. There’s a growing denim community, like the Vietnam Raw Denim Community, that focuses on quality, long-lasting jeans. Boots and raw denim go really well together, so that culture is expanding quickly.
Nick: That makes sense. With casual dress codes becoming more commonplace, a lot of people want casual apparel that’s higher quality and more timeless. Before we wrap up, do you have any final thoughts for people discovering Akito or considering a pair of your boots?
Trung: I’m a pretty low-key person. I don’t claim to make the world’s best boots. I just want to make the best boots I can, to fit Vietnamese feet and offer a durable, resoleable option here. For anyone looking for that in Vietnam, we’re happy to help.
Learn more at Trung’s website and follow him on Instagram.
Nick English usually does his thing over at Stridewise.com but we can’t thank him enough for working with us on this piece.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.