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AN HONEST TAKE FROM A MAN WHO SPENT 40 YEARS WORKING WITH WOOD

At 72, I Couldn't Reach My Own Feet.

Story by Arthur Boyd

Retired cabinetmaker

Updated: September 16, 2026

6 min read

Nobody warns you which part goes first. For me, it was reaching my own feet. The fix wasn't what I expected — and it took me far too long to find it. Here's the whole story.
The morning I finally admitted it

It happened on an ordinary Tuesday.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, one sock in my hand, reaching for a foot that felt a mile away. I couldn't get to it. Not without the hip screaming. And when I finally did — bent double, holding my breath — the worst part wasn't going down.

It was coming back up.

I sat there for a minute, a little out of breath, and did the math a man does when he's alone. I could wake my wife. I could ask her to put my socks on for me, like she does for the grandkids. Or I could just stop wearing them.

For a while, I stopped wearing them.

I'm not telling you this because it's sad. I'm telling you because I know I'm not the only one who's sat on that bed. I built furniture for forty years. Raised three kids. Never once asked another man to do what I could do myself. And here I was, beaten by a sock.

I'm not old. I just can't fold in half anymore. Nobody warns you that's the part that goes first.
It was never me

For a long time, I thought this was me getting weak.

It isn't. And it took me too long to see it.

A tall fellow grabs a ladder to change a light bulb. Nobody calls him weak for it. He's not failing — his arm just doesn't reach the ceiling. That's all this is. My arm doesn't reach the floor the way it used to. The problem was never my will. It was the distance.

Needing a longer reach to your own feet isn't giving up. It's the most ordinary thing in the world — you just need the right length of tool. The shame I'd been carrying wasn't mine. I'd picked it up somewhere and been hauling it around for no reason.

Once I put that down, I could finally look at the real problem clearly. Two of them, actually.
Why everything I tried failed me

The first problem is my body. Fair enough — I can't argue with that one.

The second one made me angry, because it didn't have to be this way.

Every tool they handed me was junk. The hospital gave me a little kit after my knee — a plastic shoehorn, a sock gadget, a grabber. The shoehorn bent the third time I leaned on it. The grabber went in a drawer. I bought another shoehorn online. Thin metal. It deformed the first cold morning, folded right over like a bad spoon.

I've made cabinets that are still standing in houses I built in the seventies. I know what "made to last" feels like in the hand. None of this was it. It was made to be thrown away — and they were happy to sell me another one every year.

That's the part that got me. Not that my body had changed. That the answer to it was a pile of plastic that failed me on purpose, and treated my dignity like it was disposable too.

So I did what I do with any bad tool. I stopped buying the flimsy version. And I went looking for how they used to make it — back when a shoehorn was something a man owned for life.

The Uprite Magnetic Shoehorn

Built to last

a lifetime

★★★★★  Loved by men who swore they'd never need one

See If It's In Stock

Get dressed standing up, or your money back — a full 90 days to be sure.

How It Actually Works

I've spent my life around wood and tools, so I looked at this one the way I'd look at anything before I trusted it. Three things make it work. All three matter.

Won't bend

Won't snap

Always there

*The three things every cheap shoehorn gets wrong — and this one gets right.

Material

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Solid beech

Mount

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Magnetic wall dock

Does

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Shoes on, socks off

Promise

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90-day money-back

Solid beech doesn't flex — that's why the heel slides in on the first try, instead of the tool folding over halfway. A magnet docks it on the wall right where I dress, so I never set it down and lose it, and never bend to the floor to pick it up. And it's long, with a smooth throat, so the heel guides in while I'm standing straight up. No folding down. I reach, I slide, I stand.

For a few hundred years, wealthy men never bent to their own feet — a valet did it for them. This is a valet you hang on your wall.
What my mornings look like now

Here's the honest result, and it's going to sound small.

My mornings are boring again.

I get up. I take the shoehorn off its magnet. I put my shoes on standing at the door, the way I did my whole life. I hang it back up. I go make coffee. My wife doesn't have to get up. Nobody has to know it was ever hard.

That's it. That's the whole thing I bought back — an ordinary morning where I don't think about it at all. No pain going down. No worse pain coming up. No hand on the dresser to steady myself. No asking.

I didn't buy a gadget. I bought back the part of me that does things himself. Turns out that was worth a lot more than I'd have guessed.

"In thirty years as an occupational therapist, the long-handled shoehorn is the one tool I hand a patient that they're still using a year later — as long as it doesn't break first. Most of them do. A solid wooden one that mounts by the door is the version I always wished I could give them."

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— An occupational therapist, 30 years in post-surgery home care

From men who'd given up on it — to men doing it themselves again

In Their Own Words

Edward H.

Verified Buyer

Age

74
Title

Owned it

6 months

I should have bought the good one first.

“I went through two of the cheap plastic ones before this. One bent, one cracked the third week. My son found the wooden one and I'll be honest — I thought he'd wasted his money on a shoehorn. Six months later it's the first thing I reach for every morning and it still looks brand new. Do the math on buying a plastic one every year and this is the cheap option.”
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Thomas R.

Verified Buyer

Age

70
Title

Owned it

1 year

The one thing from the hospital box I still own.

“After my knee they sent me home with a whole kit of plastic aids. This is the only piece I still have a year later — the rest went in a drawer or the bin. I put my shoes on standing at the front door every morning, no folding down to the floor. And it sits out on the wall looking like something I chose, not something a hospital handed me. That's the difference.”
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Frank D.

Verified Buyer

Age

77
Title

Owned it

8 months

My wife stopped having to kneel down for me.

“That's the honest reason I bought it and the honest reason I keep it. I didn't like her getting down on the floor to do my shoes, and neither did she. Now I do them myself, standing at the door, and we don't talk about it — because we don't have to anymore. Worth every cent for that alone.”
A few honest questions before you decide

Which size do I need — will it actually reach?

It comes in two lengths, so you get the right reach for your height. The standard is 50cm — nearly two feet of solid beech — and it's the one most men want: you stand up straight, guide your heel in, and never fold down to the floor. That's what I use every morning at my front door. If you're a taller man, or you simply don't want to bend even an inch, there's a 75cm Extra-Long that reaches your heel bolt upright, even well over six foot. Either way you're standing, not stooping — and when you're caught between the two, size up. The extra length never hurts.

How does the wall mount go up? Do I need tools?

No tools, no drilling. The little wooden dock has a strong peel-and-stick backing — press it to the wall by your door at whatever height suits you, and you're done. The magnet in the handle snaps the shoehorn straight onto it, so it's always right where you dress and you never bend to pick it up. If you'd rather screw it in, you can — but you don't have to.

How fast does it ship?

We ship worldwide and orders leave the warehouse quickly 1-3 Days — you'll get an email with tracking the moment it's on its way. The sets ship free express; a single shoehorn has a small flat shipping rate you'll see at checkout. Shipping Usually Takes 5-10 Days. 

What if it doesn't work for me?

Then you're covered. You get a full 90 days — use it every morning, and if it hasn't earned its place by your door, email us and we'll refund you. You keep it either way. Ninety days is more than enough time to know.

Tomorrow morning, you'll put your shoes on one of two ways.

The first way, you already know. You wait for someone — your wife, your son — to kneel down and do it for you. You look away while they lace your shoes, and you swallow the same quiet sting you feel every morning: I used to do this myself.

The second way, you reach for a tool that's already hanging by your door. You slide your heel in standing straight up, and you walk out ready — nobody kneeling, nobody asked.

Same body. Same morning. One tool between them — and it's built to last longer than you will.

The Uprite Magnetic Shoehorn

Built to

outlive you

★★★★★  Loved by men who swore they'd never need one

Claim Mine Now

Get dressed standing up, or your money back — 90 days, and keep it either way.

This is one man's real experience, shared to help others in the same spot. Results vary from person to person. The Uprite Magnetic Shoehorn is an everyday dressing tool, not a medical treatment — it helps you put your shoes on without bending down to the floor. If you're recovering from surgery, follow your own care team's advice.

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