I recently had some friends over for drinks one evening and they insisted on seeing my shoe collection. They're "fascinated" that any one person can own so many pairs of shoes (or perhaps a bit aghast by it and just too polite to admit it). The truth is that I don't really know where my shoe habit comes from and I've never really felt the need to delve into the deeper meaning of my obsession. I merely enjoy them.
I suppose I could offer a pragmatic explanation: "I'm petite and therefore a good pair of heels lengthens my silhouette". Or, I could offer a defense: "Some people collect stamps, others baseball cards. I collect shoes. So what?" Or, I could simply tell them it's none of their business. But, that would be impolite. In truth, a beautifully crafted pair of shoes, especially high-heeled shoes, makes me happy. I don't need to really analyze the issue any further. This said, I'm absolutely fascinated by their history: how they came to be but also how they became such potent symbols of femininity, eroticism and status.
I recently came across an excellent book on the very subject entitled Heights of Fashion: A History of the Elevated Shoe by Elizabeth Semmelback (Periscope Publishing 2008). The book is a short, well-written dissertation examining how and why high-heeled shoes came into being and how they've become imbued with class, gender and moral meaning. While it is undeniably a scholarly text (the author is the curator of Toronto's Bata Shoe Museum), it is concise and written in a breezy manner that draws you in and keeps you turning the pages. I highly recommend it.
Sincerely,
The Luxe Chronicles
dont you not think that sometimes the heeled shoe is considered anti-feminist in that they restrict a woman's movement and that it can even be argued that high heels are designed to deliberately make a woman feel helpless?
Posted by: non-fiction books | Wednesday, February 10, 2010 at 15:32