These boots would fit a 7″ foot. The ideal was shorter.
I found these tiny leather boots in an antique shop in Bow, WA. Or rather my sister Sue found them and pointed them out to me. “Look,” she said. “They must be for someone with bound feet. You could use them as a prop after you get your novel published.”
I shrugged. They didn’t look like any Chinese shoes I’d ever seen. Besides, what would shoes for a woman with bound feet be doing in an antique shop in this tiny town on the edge of farm country, a shop that was filled with old dishes and scrub boards, hand plows and antique coffee grinders.
I might have passed them by. But I was bored, so I looked them over carefully. We’d just finished lunch at the Rhododendron Café, a great little eating spot in Skagit County. The Rhododendron Cafe had one downside though. Each time we’d eaten there Sue and my mom wanted to spend the next couple hours in the antique store next door. Not being a fan of antique shops—especially the kind that look like a fusion of grandpa’s garage and grandma’s attic–I was reluctant. But I always followed them in anyway. That day I cruised the shop a few times, checked what they’d found that was so interesting, cruised the shop again. And then … then… Just when I was considering taking a walk down Chuckanut Drive, Sue found the tiny boots.
My boot is women’s size 8.
Until then, I don’t think I’d ever bought anything in an antique store. But these boots intrigued me. I could use them as a prop, the way Sue suggested. I could take them to book events, to readings and book club meetings. And … they would be a sign of my belief that I actually would get my book published.
Well, Tiger Tail Soup was published last year, and so far I haven’t taken the boots anywhere. I bring my book, a poster, and some business cards. Sometimes I bring specially stuffed fortune cookies and Chinese dresses. (I have some beautiful cheongsams left to me by my mother-in-law.) But by the time I stuff all those things in the car, it seems like enough.
So now, for the first time, I’m sharing photos with you of the strange tiny boots I bought.
photo courtesy of Dr. John C. Bullas
In 2013, I wrote a post about bound feet that I called “Fashion Torture.” (You can click on the link to read it.) In the post, I described how women’s feet were crippled and made small for the sake of beauty. A horrendous practice. Worse yet, the practice lasted for about 1000 years. The Empress Dowager finally issued an anti-foot binding edict in 1902, too late for my husband’s grandmother. After writing “Fashion Torture,” I heard from other people whose mothers and grandmothers had bound feet.
One of the characters in my novel, Tiger Tail Soup, also has bound feet. With her tiny, crippled feet, she was left partially disabled and unable to flee before the Japanese invaded her island.
Today, when I look at these tiny boots I found in an antique shop, I still wonder: Are they really fashioned for a woman with bound feet? Were they ever worn in the United States? Or did some tourist find them in a market in China, bring them back and then sell them to the antique dealer?
Tiger Tail Soup is available in book stores and also from Amazon, barnesandnoble.com and Apple iBooks.
It’s probably a collector’s item …and may actually deserve to be in a local museum, those boots.
Thank God, foot-binding no longer exists. I am not aware of any one in my family for last 3 generations having bound feet.
But we have other cosmetic /surgical atrocities…changing shape of Asian eyes to be bigger, etc.
I think you’re right, Jean. I should at some point donate the boots to a museum.
It’s a shame so many people are dissatisfied with the bodies they have. I’m all for natural. Having pierced ears is about as far as I’m willing to go.
Beautiful qipao. My wife always wanted one but well, she is too lazy to bother to get one made for herself so in the end I believe she will never own one..
Anyways, really interesting that you found these tiny boots in that store. When I think about the antique stores here there is usually only the boring and useless stuff…
Like you, Timo, I usually find the things in antique stores boring and useless. If it hadn’t been for my sister, I wouldn’t have found the boots.
I’ve heard about this tradition of bound feet in the olden days growing up. Funny how having squished, painful feet back then was considered dainty and beautiful back then – but it was a sign that one was worthy in the eyes of the status quo as you inferred in your previous post. Binding feet or forcing feet into such shoes brings about bunions and it’s often an irreversible condition. It’s a condition I suffer from and finding the right kind of shoes for me is hard, and it’s harder because a lot of shoes these days come with very narrow tips like the boots in your photos.
Oh my word. How painful that must have been. I’m happy to know this has gone by the wayside.
Thanks for sharing the pictures. It is a horrific practice and I shudder just to think about it. And yet, like much history, there’s a certain gruesome fascination.
History, gruesome or not, is fascinating. And yet, I don’t read much history. I don’t know why not. Yesterday I toured George Washington’s Mount Vernon and found it all so interesting.
This is a fascinating story, Nicki. I understand how conflicted you must feel about bringing these boots to signing events if you aren’t sure they were worn by a woman with bounded feet. If it is the case, though, I would bring them to show how horrible this tradition was. I’ve read about it in other novels and the thought of wearing tiny shoes is really disturbing. Anything done to alter the natural human body leaves me upset, since I believe that we are all beautiful the way we are. Big feet or small feet. Thank you for another good post. Best of luck with your book.
Thank you, Evelyne. I agree that we should all accept ourselves as beautiful the way we are. It’s not easy, though. We can always think of another way to improve on what we’ve got.
I agree that taking advantages of our assets is a great idea since each of us has something special that no one else has.
They are very odd looking boots.
You find the strangest things in little antique shops.
It’s interesting that you found those boots. But how incredibly sad. I’m glad the foot binding has died out.
Such a painful custom!
Fascinating!