On The Gold Coast: Shoes
Judith Wallis says we lost something special when leather-soled shoes became unpopular. As a child she could identify people by the sound their shoe leather made as it contacted the pavement.
There is an object I have not seen in a long while I thought as I bent to pick up a small heel plate half buried in the grass. I turned it over in my hand. The curved shape with its row of neatly punched holes was well worn. How long had it lain there I wondered? My own shoes had not required plates since the 1960’s when rubber and synthetics replaced the leather soles on shoes.
We lost something more than noise when leather soled-shoes lost their popularity. As a child I could identify each person in the street, having listened all my life to the same neighbours treading the tarseal pavement, the sound of their leather soled shoes ringing clear.
Light happy walkers, brisk business like steps and those just out for a stroll. Heavy, dragging sad and sometimes angry feet, stomping along the street. There were those who ran in haste and some in fear and still others who skipped for joy. Young, old, big and small, the name and mood of each unseen person could be identified by the sound of their footsteps.
When I was small my father mended our shoes. Moving buttons and buckles and adding new holes in the straps to accommodate our growing feet. And when our toes pushed through the tops of our sandals, he cut away the leather to make toe peepers like the grown-up ladies wore. Worn out soles were replaced with new leather.
I would accompany father out to his shed and climbing on a box beside him, lean forward to watch as he sharpened the small curved knife used to cut the leather, laying it beside the tack hammer and pliers. I tested my strength by lifting the heavy last and using my small fingers, selected the tacks, placing then one at a time into father’s large hand.
Do you remember the pain of having a nail come through into your shoe? How they hurt. And stiletto heels. Remember them? The advent of stiletto heels created more letters to editors than did plastic cutlery. People loved them or hated them. Most hated them because they ruined floors, pitting and even piecing the surface. There were notices at the entrance to public offices, shops and churches. PLEASE REMOVE STILETTO SHOES BEFORE ENTERING. And accidents increased tenfold as the slender heels caught in gratings and on stairs.
I would like to think that as a race humans learn from the mistakes of the past but I am not sure we have when I think about our footwear. More and more children are showing signs of back problems at an early age. This could be because they carry overweight school bags or slump overly long on the couch watching The Simpsons or it might be that children need firm supportive shoes of the kind rarely seen today. I often see three-year-old girls who teeter dangerously as they struggle to walk in high heeled mules the sight of which, causes me to cringe.
Today I paused before a shoe-shop window. The latest spring fashion shoes were beautifully displayed amid masses of pink and white blossom. And all the ladies shoes had stiletto heels.
Beware. The spikes are back.
