Victorian shoes

Our house was built in 1891. It was one of the first houses in Lindisfarne on Hobart's Eastern Shore. People who lived in Hobart used to come across by boat for the weekend.

It has lots of big rooms and a hallway that is both wide and long. But when we bought it in 1999, the bathroom was hideous and the living room kitchen was a dog-leg shape with no external windows so we had to have the light on all day.

We fixed the bathroom first (priorities) then in 2004 we undertook the Great Renovation Project which meant handing over one quarter of the house to the builder for eight months and setting up a temporary kitchen in one of the bedrooms.

Our builder decided it was easier to remove all the floors and external walls and then put them back in the new configuration.

Well with a house this age, you'd really hope to find something interesting under the floor boards and we weren't disappointed.

Here we have a glass bottle, two children's shoes, a teaspoon and a child's leather glove.

I mentioned the shoes to a friend, who recalled seeing a documentary about shoes being placed under the floorboards near the door as protection against evil spirits. The theory is that the shoes are the only item of apparel to retain the shape of the wearer when removed, so the evil spirits are tricked into thinking a person is there.

I contacted the ABC who put me in touch with Ian Evans, the author of the documentary, who has a wealth of knowledge about old houses and concealed objects. You can read more on his website Old Houses.

The result was that Ian Evans and his wife came to visit (he just happened to be coming to Tasmania to see a number of houses where old shoes had been discovered), and he took photos of our shoes for his next book. I'm not sure if it has been published yet.

I made scones for them in the toaster oven in the bedroom/kitchen which he kindly said were the best scones he'd ever had.

I haven't yet done anything with the shoes - I'm a bit nervous about removing them from the house to have them cleaned and presented by someone with appropriate skills in this area. After all, their removal might signal a free-for-all to the evil spirits!

The other interesting link in this story is that I grew up over the back fence of this house which we now own. I remember old Miss Simmons - a fearful character - who lived there into her nineties. Her father built the house. I checked the births and deaths and she and her sister would have been small children in the 1890's.
The shoes are not actually a pair - I think they're two right shoes.

I like to think that Mr Simmons put one shoe from each of his daughters under the floorboards where we discovered them 110 years later.

Silver blundstones

There are a lot of soccer balls in our house. I mean a LOT.
And they usually end up here at the front-door end of the extensive hallway.

You'd think the hallway would be a good place for practising one's ball skills (despite the presence of 1891 lathe and plaster walls), but NO. The kitchen remains the preferred battleground (battle often being of the "stop kicking that ball in the kitchen!" type).

And when I go to one of the many soccer games that I as a loyal and supportive parent attend every Saturday morning, Saturday afternoon and frequently at least once on Sundays between the months of April and September, I like to wear my Silver Blundstone-style boots.





I acquired these in 2004 after being introduced to the amazing concept of a Shoe Party.

For the uninitiated, this involves a woman coming to your house with thousands of shoes in every size, shape and colour which you can then order in any combination. I'll take that style but in this colour with the low heel.


Unlike a Tupperware party when friends pretend to be busy that night, I had people seeking me out to ask if they could come.  Even the boss invited herself.

And when the demonstration was over and we were let loose on the pile, a frenzied  trying-on ensued.

As a result of sales I scored four pairs for free. Sadly these are the only ones that really worked out for me.

But they're pretty cool, don't you think?

Autumn leaves - more pointy shoes

Sometime round about 2004 my original pointy-toed brown shoes were starting to wear out.
But then I found these in an expensive little shop in Wellington Arcade, Hobart. They were half price or I probably would  not have felt happy about buying them.

If you look carefully you can see that they're covered with a wonderful autumn leaf pattern, just like the real autumn leaves from 100+ year old grape vine lying underneath them.

But to see that you'd have to get your nose really close to my feet, and I would not advise that.

Black, flat and exciting

In May 2004 I spent an almost perfect week in Melbourne. It was the longest I'd been away from my boys since becoming a mother eight years earlier and the knack of being alone with no responsibilities came back surprisingly quickly.

I stayed in a wonderful hotel and got to sleep all night. I went to an inspiring conference during the day, and in the evening I swam in the hotel's stunning Infinity Pool, went to a show with my half-sister, saw another show by myself and revelled in walking along the South Bank late at night in mild weather with life going on all around me.

It was during the conference that my two colleagues introduced me to the Lunchtime Shoe-Dash. The catering for the conference was substantial and if one was honest, it wasn't strictly necessary to eat morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea (I certainly didn't bother with dinner once the sessions finished).

My colleagues turned out to be seasoned shoe-shoppers and felt we could skip lunch, pop into Peter Sheppard's shoe shop in the city and be back in time for the afternoon session. So we booked a taxi which was waiting for us as soon as the morning session finished and hit the town. I didn't buy anything but it was a lot of fun.

But at the end of the conference I had a couple of hours to myself and did some very productive shopping. I bought these shoes in Flinders Lane, and they are flat, comfortable and completely irreplaceable. The soles have been replaced, the inner soles have scrunched up under my toes, and the laces have broken but despite several abortive attempts I haven't been able to find anything else that combines comfort and flair.

By the time I came home of course I was missing my boys terribly. I took one look at my younger son and asked "How long has he had those spots?". Turned out he'd developed chicken pox at some stage during my absence, but no one had noticed.

So not the perfect week, but pretty close.

Green pointy shoes

In September 2003 we did the obligatory family holiday to the Gold Coast and Theme Parks thing. The younger son, at four years old, wasn't tall enough for most of the rides which meant I didn't have to go on anything really scary.

We had a lovely apartment with a stunning view and spent a lot of time swimming when we weren't whizzing down giant roller coasters.

Towards the end of the week I negotiated myself a couple of hours of shopping time at nearby Pacific Fair.

I saw these wonderfully pointed shoes in almost the first shop I went into, but checked out everything else before returning and making the purchase. They had purple ones as well, and I thought for a while I should have bought those too (even though I'm not really a purple person) because the green ones were so successful.

Sadly I can't wear them any more but I'm keeping them as my last reminder of high heels and don't-mess-with-me toes.

The Red Shoes

In May 2003, I took my seven year old son to Melbourne for the weekend.

We had a little apartment in Flinders Lane and I wanted to show him all the things that make Melbourne special - trams, underground trains, Luna Park, shopping.

I soon discovered that he had a much greater tolerance for queueing for rides at Luna Park (several hours) than he did for shopping (10 minutes).

Nevertheless, I managed to grab these shoes from further down Flinders Lane. This little lane way has proved to be a rich source of exciting and affordable shoes ever since.

The best thing about these shoes is that they are red. As a former redhead, I wasn't really introduced to this colour until the last decade or so when my hair had started to fade.
So I still feel quite bold when I'm wearing red.

And the shoes have little criss-crossy things going on at the front. What fun.
And fur!  These shoes are not only aesthetically satisfying, they're fun to touch!
And they've got rugby studs underneath, because you just never know when you might be tripping merrily along in your best red shoes and suddenly have to negotiate a football field.

But that would be bad for the fur. Did I mention the fur?

Yes, these shoes are the full package. They're the sort of shoes that complete strangers stop to admire and sure, they may be a little scuffed now, but when I wear them with my red jacket, I am so ready to kick butt.

Twinkle toes

In 2002 I discovered that shoes could be exciting.

My sister and I shouted our mother a weekend in Melbourne so that we could see Man of La Mancha starring Anthony Warlow together.

It was our first Mother-Daughters weekend since we'd left home following university. We left our kids at home with their dads. My boys were 6 and 3, my sister's, in Sydney, a few years older.We had a lovely apartment near the gardens and  thoroughly enjoyed the whole weekend, agreeing we must do it again soon. Sadly, we haven't.


I bought these shoes in Myer and they seemed really radical, because of the wonderfully pointy toes. They were certainly the first shoes I bought that people stopped to comment on.

In 2002, brown was the new black, and surprisingly stayed popular for several years.

I don't wear them so much now that black is back.

Court shoes 1990

I reckon from 1982 until around 2002 I wore a lot of court shoes. Some were stillettos, some had pointy toes, some had square toes. Black, brown, turquoise, navy, cream and dark green with little black bows.

I'd show you, but I gave them all to the op shop just a few months ago when it became clear I was never going to wear heels again.

But this is what they looked like.

          

The most exciting pair were probably the orange ones I bought in Oxford Street for my "going away" outfit when I married Peter in the UK in 1990. I still have these, along with the orange silk dress and matching clutch. I also have the wedding shoes - similar style but white (of course) with grass stain trimmings. I bought those in Bath - a lovely day out by train from where I was living in Bracknell, Berkshire (best known for its roundabouts and multi-storey car parks).

I can jump puddles - Gumboots 1988

I might have had gumboots for jumping in puddles when I was a youngster, but navigating an English winter and the London Transport system in 1988 required seriously weather-impervious footwear.

I was renting a room in Chorleywood, nearly at the end of the Metropolitan Line on the London Underground.


Every morning I had to walk through snow to the bus stop, catch a train to the city, change to another train, then walk about 10 minutes to the office of Dial-a-Cab where I keyed in taxi fares from 9 until 5:30 pm every day.
Then the same journey back home, arriving back just in time to make dinner and go to bed.


Would never have navigated all those icy pavements without the "wellies".


I've kept them for sentimental reasons, but noticed last year at soccer a lot of the mums were starting to wear them as the soccer grounds turned into giant mud bowls due to the unremitting rain. 


Theirs were nice colours and patterns, but I'm happy with my English Winter Sky Grey.

Tilting at windmills - 1986

Burnie. Population 20,000, shoe shops: 3, book shops: 0.

I spent six years of my life in Burnie, and they were mostly good years, characterised by a total immersion in music for the first time and some lasting friendships with teaching colleagues.

I sang in my first choir, joined the musical society, sang in a ladies' a capella group and a jazz trio, and a jazz quartet.

I bought these ankle boots at some stage during my time in Burnie and wore them when I scored the leading role of Aldonza in the Burnie Musical Society's production on Man of La Mancha in 1986.

It was the pinnacle of a six year stage career. I couldn't reach the top notes and they had to transpose everything for me, but hey! I could act like a woman with loose morals with the best of them.

I even got to sport a cleavage thanks to clever make-up and a pair of socks for extra uplift.

Questi stivali belli - 1984

I bought these beautiful boots in Florence, Italy, whilst travelling around Europe in January 1984.


Firenze is my favourite city in the world and not just because a gorgeous South Australian doctor picked me up on the railway station minutes after I disembarked and whisked me off to dinner that night (before meeting up with his girlfriend in Venice a few days later).


I haven't worn these boots for a long while, and they're not particularly comfortable but I will never give them up.

Ugg - early 80s

We know they're ours even if there are all sorts of pretenders out there trying to own the humble Australian Ugg Boot.

These ones have travelled the world with me and are slightly the worse for wear, as indeed am I.

I had them with me in England though my flatmate's new girlfriend/fiancee wouldn't let me wear them inside on the new pink carpet she'd persuaded him to have laid.

I mean seriously, if you can't slop around the house in your tracky daks and ugg boots on a cold day, what's the point?

These boots were made for looking like a cowgirl - c 1982

I went to university on one of the last Education Department studentships. This, and my earnings from working in the Myer underwear department on Friday nights and Saturday mornings meant I had a clothing budget for the first time.

I bought two pairs of boots, one black, one brown that I'd wear in winter with a skirt on the days I wasn't doing Chemistry or Physics pracs.

I suspect I actually bought the boots pictured after uni, but I kept them because I thought I might never get another pair, even though I haven't worn them since the 80s.

In fact, I bought my next pair of boots just last year when Prime Minister Kevin Rudd was kindly giving handouts to keep the economy going.

So I did my bit.

These boots were made for walking - 1978

I've had these boots for 32 years!

I bought them second hand from a friend in the first year of university when I thought it might be fun to go bush walking.

These boots have been around the Freycinet peninsula, including up Mt Graham which took me 7 hours instead of the estimated 3, and up to the University Ski Hut at Mt Field (where I lost part of my right index finger) and other assorted walks in Tasmania's south-west wilderness where I got car sick on the way there, struggled with anything that wasn't flat, then threw up again on the way back.

Soon after that I took up bridge, mahjong, backgammon and other indoor pursuits.

Ah, happy days.

Plastic sandals - 60's

Maybe I should have started here. This is the first footwear I can remember wearing. I fancy I can still remember the smell of the warm plastic.

All the kids had them.

Apparently after the second world war, there was a shortage of leather and Mr Jean Dauphant hit upon the idea of making sandals from PVC.

Who would have thought 50 years later plastic would make a comeback as Crocs?

Platforms - mid 70's

When I see people wearing platform shoes now I think "Been there, done that, NOT doing it again".

I had two or three pairs in the 70's and remember walking as being like having a tugboat strapped to each foot.
No flexibility. And I wasn't particularly short, so they served no useful purpose.

Of course I no longer have my platform shoes, but I remember some brown ones, a bit like the ones on the left, and I think I may have had some like the ones on the right as well.

In the beginning - the Desert Boot, early 70's

I don't actually have a lot of shoes. In fact for most of the 80's and half of the 90's I probably had one pair each of black, navy and brown for work, and a couple of pairs of casual weekend shoes.

But then I discovered that shoes could be exciting.  So whilst my most recent shoe history is colourful and quirky, my beginnings are in beige...

These are Desert Boots. They are the first shoe I remember wanting and being excited to wear - the ultimate cool footwear for a teenager in the 70's.

Beige suede, which of course soon got grubby and shiny.

I probably wore them with my purple V-Knee flares.