Shoes Under The German Occupation: A Tribute To Chic Ingenuity Of Parisians

Anyone with grandparents who experienced World War II will undoubtedly have heard countless stories of rationing, deprivation and the kind of plucky ingenuity that had to be routinely deployed just to get by. For most, the primary concern was securing enough food to eat and coal to keep warm. Without wanting to sound trite or dismissive of those daily struggles, I do want to draw attention to another struggle that was weathered by women, Parisian women in particular, throughout most of the German occupation of Paris: the struggle to remain stylish despite severe rationing and chronic shortages of cloth, leather and other materials instrumental to the production of women's apparel and accessories.

Let me begin by pointing out that fashion is more than a frivolous pursuit, particularly in France. Fashion was then and still is an industry that employs countless designers, seamstresses, pattern cutters, shoemakers, milliners, embroiderers, fabric designers, fabric manufacturers and countless other related disciplines such as marketeers, advertisers, publishers and salespeople all vital to the French economy. This industry also happens to be intricately interwoven in the history and national identity of France dating as far back as the 18th century when Rose Bertin dressed Marie Antoinette and her acolytes and dispatched miniature models of her confections to various royal courts throughout Europe. As eloquently pointed out by fashion historian Jacqueline Demornex in her award-winning book Lucien Lelong: L'Intemporel (Gallimard, 2007, pp. 84-86), Lelong, as president of la Chambre syndicale de la couture (haute couture's governing body) during WWII, threatened to shut down production altogether rather than go along with Nazi efforts to move haute couture from Paris to Vienna and Berlin. For Lelong, this move would have meant the end of this most French of industries and his stance was no less a form of resistance against the occupying forces than blowing up bridges. Lelong understood better than most the importance of fashion generally and haute couture in particular to the French economy but also to the French identity.

The photographs I've included in this post are from a fantastic exhibit entitled Paris sous l'Occupation: Photographies en couleurs d'Andre Zucca organized by La Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris. The exhibit is groundbreaking in that it involves color photographs depicting a lighter side of the Occupation which until now had been defined almost exclusively by grim, black and white photographs depicting scenes of humiliation and defeat. It is not however without controversy in that the photographs that make up this exhibit were the work of former war correspondent Andre Zucca for a Nazi propaganda magazine distributed throughout occupied France. While the political dimensions of the exhibit are beyond the scope of this blog, I feel the photographs are worthy of consideration in that they offer a rare glimpse into the more mundane aspects of day to day life in Paris and showcase the ingenuity and spirit required to get through this bleak period of French history.

I had often heard of the invention of le soulier compense, a woman's shoe made of bits of scrap cloth with thick wooden soles held together by a variety of metal pins or glue. They were manufactured throughout the Occupation to replace traditional leather shoes due to the requisitioning of all leather goods by the German occupying forces. They were so ubiquitous during the war that the particular sound they made on the cobblestone streets of Paris inspired Maurice Chevalier to write a song about them called La Symphonie des semelles de bois (Ian Ousby, Occupation: The Ordeal of France 1940-1944, Pimlico Press, 1999.). To be honest, I had never really imagined they could be particularly refined or stylish but I stand corrected. More importantly, the fact that not withstanding the drudgery of standing in line for hours for a bit of bread or a few grams of butter and the constant worry of ensuring their survival, these women cared enough about their appearance to pull themselves together and make the most of their situation does inspire a certain respect for le chic Parisien which apparently shines through even under duress. Or, maybe it's just the feminine spirit that shines through. Either way, it deserves respect.

The exhibit Paris sous l'occupation, photographies en couleurs d'Andre Zucca is sponsored and organized by La Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris and ends July 1, 2008. For more information, please click on the above link.

Photographic References:

Photos by A. Zucca from the current exhibit Des Parisiens sous l’Occupation: Photographies en couleurs d'Andre Zucca, sponsored and organized by La Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris.

Comments

[Helene]

How funny you should point that out Ms. P&C! The first reaction I had when I saw those photographs was 'how cutting edge' ... until I realized they were circa 1942! I agree, fashion is a cycle and very few 'cutting edge' ideas are all that cutting edge after all. As I understand it, these shoes were made from various waste and scraps of all kind: wood, recycled leather, cloth, etc. In short, anything that could be reutilized or recycled was used. The wooden heels gained favor because of their durability and because the alternative made of compressed paper and cardboard tended to fall apart in the rain. I highly recommend the book I cite in the post by British historian Ian Ousby - it offers a glimpse of what daily life entailed for the average Parisian under the Occupation. So glad you enjoyed the post.

Helene

[Ms. P&C]

Fascinating and incredibly stylish! I'm not sure what those heels are made of, but I do know that Marc Jacobs used very similar heel shapes in his Spring 2007 collection for Louis Vuitton...

Fashion 'tis but a cycle!