Clogs & Platforms Shoes: Elevating Women Through the Ages
During the spring of 2019, I was able to view "Empresses of China’s Forbidden City, 1644 - 1912" at the Freer/Sackler, showing the opulence of dress in Qing Dynasty China. A month later, while reviewing the Guo Pei exhibit at the Bowers Museum, the opulence of the rich in contemporary China was revealed (see *Ornament* 41/2, 2019). That same May, Michael Backman, a London based purveyor of fine ethnographica, showed a pair of Ottoman woman’s clogs, along with detailed attribution and a vintage postcard of such clogs being worn. All of a sudden, their common theme emerged, of how the status of women has long been determined by the shoes they wore.
We have always covered shoes as an essential part of personal adornment, but the footware encountered in these exhibitions and online literally elevated women, physically and socially. More than two decades ago, the Field Museum of Natural History opened a wonderful exhibition called “Living Together,” designed to promote better understanding of cultural diversity (Liu, Ornament 24/4: 68-69, 2001). This exhibit introduced me to clogs, both practical, as in the example of Japanese rain clogs of the early 20th century, and opulent ones, possibly dangerous to the wearer, of Turkish women’s stilted clogs of the same period. Both of wood, but the Turkish ones were elaborately inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and almost twice as high as the Asian ones.
Backman showed in his monthly newsletter an unusually tall Ottoman woman’s mother-of-pearl inlaid wooden clogs, also stilted. Called Qabqab in Arabic; Ottoman Turkey, 19th or early 20th century, 30 cm high to top of toe strap, 22.8 cm long and 18 cm wide. This pair of woman’s clogs (qabqab or nalin) is most probably from Ottoman Turkey or possibly from elsewhere in the Ottoman empire. They are very high – in fact they are among the tallest examples of this type of footwear that they have seen. Each comprises two high platforms which flare to be quite wide towards the ground, a sole, and the original raised upper metallic strap. (The undersides of the straps have been reinforced relatively recently with what seems to be a vinyl material to protect and better support the straps.) Each is carved from wood (possibly olive wood) and inset with numerous mother-of-pearl slivers arrayed in geometric patterns along with silver or pewter wire inlay. This decoration is across all exposed wooden surfaces and is quite profuse.
Such clogs were designed for a wealthy woman so that when worn she would be elevated above a wet and dirty floor. Walking, however, required the assistance of an attendant, and the higher the clog, then the more attendants who would be needed, so particularly high clogs – such as those shown here, which must be among the highest available – became status symbols. Their Arabic name – qabqab – derives from the sound they made when they were being worn. The pair is in very good condition, with no losses to the mother-of-pearl inlay. As mentioned, the toe straps have newer reinforcements. (It is of considerably different shape compared to the pair from the Field Museum.) See: Koc, A., et al, Istanbul: The City and the Sultan, Nieuwe Kerk, 2007.
Empresses of Qing China, as well as other consorts of the Emperor, also wore elevated shoes, of two types: very thick, stiff soles on shoes or boots or shoes with platforms, both shown here. Since the Qing rulers were Manchurians, they did not permit the binding of the feet of their women, as did the Han Chinese of that time. This painful and crippling practice produced a “lotus gait”, which titillated men of earlier dynasties (Wang and Stuart (eds) 2018 Empresses of China’s Forbidden City, 1644-1912. Yale University Press). Apparently, the Manchurian platform shoes allowed an approximation of the above gait. In the book accompanying this Smithsonian exhibition, there are a number of paintings of Qing empresses wearing platform shoes, most with the soles tapering to about half the length of the shoe. But there is a photograph of the Empress Dowager Cixi, the last empress, wearing the flaring type of platform shoes as shown in this blog. Of course, those who wore such elevated shoes were surrounded by a retinue, who would be expected to steady her walk.
When we look at the new empresses of China, that is, ultra-wealthy women, I have no information whether any in the exclusive circles of Guo Pei’s fashion group do actually buy and wear her shoes. But if they do, you can bet onlookers will realize their status.
Worldwide, high heels or platform shoes are associated with glamour, high fashion and sexuality, although they do come with a cost. Injuries from high heels have increased, almost doubled, and longterm wearing has deleterious effects on the toes, foot, ankle, legs and spine. I am not sure if elevated shoes still confer status in our contemporary world, but there does not appear to be any decline in their desirability nor cost.
Related Readings: Guo Pei. Couture Beyond. Volume 41, No. 2, 2019.
TWO PAIRS OF QING WOMEN’S PLATFORM SHOES, with embroidered silk satin cloth uppers, appliqué and tassels. The platforms are wood core covered with cotton and have sewn on or glued on glass beads or jewels. The uppers have similar bead decoration, probably sewn on. Pair to right have tiger heads and the Chinese character for king (wang) in red. Its platform has the character for longevity in glass ornaments. Children’s shoes and hats have similar tiger motifs (Liu and Najdowski, Ornament 38/2, 2015). Tiger hats for boys also have the word for king sewn on the forehead but lack the tassels for whiskers. Courtesy of the Freer/Sackler.
PLATFORM SHOES WORN BY MANNEQUINS at the Guo Pei exhibition, Bowers Museum, Santa Ana, California. These are not the tallest of the platform shoes that accompany all of Chinese designer Guo Pei’s clothing. Some are as high or even slightly higher than the Backman Ottoman clogs. Unfortunately none of the shoes are described in the publication, Guo Pei, Couture Beyond. The one to the left appears to be of vinyl and a rigid plastic, embellished with beadwork (?) and strands of small beads, somewhat similar in treatment to the two pairs of Qing platform shoes shown previously. The shoe to the right may be of leather and molded plastic for the sole/platform. According to the SCAD professor leading our gallery tour, none of the models have ever fallen while wearing Guo Pei’s shoes, but it cannot have been easy to navigate the catwalk on such footwear.