History's Runway: A Pair of Ladies Boots, c. 1865

Boots
French, 1865
The Victoria & Albert Museum

These red boots, laced at the back, are made of ribbed silk. They were designed to come up just above the ankle and are set with the then-fashionable “military” style heel. The heel has been covered in silk to match the uppers. They have are trimmed at the top with bobbin lace and ribbons.

London Society ladies of the 1860s and 1870s had a passion for these high-heeled French boots which were important from Parisian show-makers or often copied by English cobblers. According to the V&A, “The French influence was due to the stylish Empress Eugenie who had married the French emperor, Napoleon III, in 1853. She was probably responsible for the introduction of the shorter skirt which led to a greater emphasis on stockings and shoes.” Such boots tended to be rather gaudy by Nineteenth Century standards and were made in a variety of bold, bright colors thanks to the chemical aniline dyes which were introduced in the 1860s. 

Gifts of Grandeur: The Harrods Shoe Snuffbox, c. 1870

Snuffbox, 1870-1880
The Talbot Collection at
The Victoria & Albert Museum

In the Nineteenth Century, boots and shoes were symbols of good luck. So, it was only natural that trinkets and personal objects should take the form of footwear. This snuffbox, dating between 1870 and 1880, is an excellent example of that phenomenon. The box is made in the shape of a fashionable Victorian lady’s button-boot of the 1860s. It is even adorned with metal studs just like the real thing would have been. The top of the boot forms the container for the snuff.

It’s a sure thing that this box was made in England, but other similar examples were imported from France at the time. The lid of the box is missing, but it’s still quite attractive. While most collectible snuffboxes were made of golf, hardstone or precious metals, some—like these novelty boxes—were made of wood. The mahogany box has been carefully hand painted, partly ebonized, and adorned with brass stringing, brass nails in the sole and heel, and brass and mother-of-pearl buttons.

Now part of the V&A’s Talbot Hughes Collection, the box was originally donated to the V&A by Messrs. Harrods of London in 1913. 

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Boots and Shoes

Click image to enlarge.

Here we have another issue with proportion. Either that’s one giant parakeet or one very small kitten. In any event, they’re not friends. To be accurate, the parakeet doesn’t really seem to care too much. He’s unfazed, but the kitten is entirely incensed.

That said, I find this card delightful and smiled when I found it amongst a new set of Victorian trade cards. In fact, I think that’s what I find appealing. It’s just such a Victorian scene. I’m not sure what the parakeet is sitting on. It looks like a box of matzo, but doubt it. Whatever it is, in pure 1880s fashion, it’s draped in a shawl and adorned with rosebuds and wheat.

This, of course, is a stock trade card which would have been selected from a catalog. The selector, it appears, was one:
HENRY DAMON, 
Boots & Shoes. 
25 Essex Street, 
BOSTON. 

The printer is listed as “something unreadable” Stetson, Printer, Quincy, Mass.

Let’s see what the reverse says:

HENRY DAMON, 

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL 

------------------------------

---<< BOOTS AND SHOES, >>--- 

------------------------------

25 ESSEX STREET, 

BOSTON. 

O.M.A.      M.R.A.      H.C.      and      U.F. 

I have no idea what those initials mean. All I know is that these two natural enemies—parakeet and cat—will forever be frozen in a strange, blasé, antagonistic dance. And, that, to me, is neat.

Click Image to Enlarge.

Object of the Day: Edwin C. Burt Fine Shoes

Click on image to ride in a shoe.

I know that when I’m sledding in a giant ladies shoe (or, specifically in a giant lady’s shoe), I like to wave the American flag. Mine has fifty stars, I’m proud to say, but when this card was printed, the U.S. had markedly fewer states and wasn’t even twenty years past the Civil War.

This clever bit of Victorian weirdness was printed for “Edwin C. Burt, Fine Shoes.” Burt Shoes were a popular brand which was marketed through many retailers. The Burt Company would distribute these trade cards to retailers as a means of advertising individual shoe shops. As we can see, this one was overprinted with the information of a shop in Massachusetts. It reads, “Presented by P/B/ Robinson, 221 Essex St., Lawrence Mass.”

The reverse is neatly printed with additional information about Mr. Robinson’s shoe shop as well as some very vital data about Mr. Burt’s fancy shoes.

P.B. ROBINSON, 

Dealer in BOOTS and SHOES of every description, 

No. 221 Essex Street, 

LAWRENCE, MASS. 

Has a fine line of BURT’S GOODS, manufactured 

expressly for him by 

                                           EDWIN C. BURT, New York. 

CAUTION. 

THE GENUINE BURT SHOE has the name of 

EDWIN C. BURT 

stamped in full on the LINING and SOLE of EACH SHOE 

and are warranted. 

The Major Knapp, Lith. Co., 56 Park Place, N.Y. 

It seems that in the printing process, the sheet became misaligned and the “CAUTION” type was repeated. There’s also a curiously placed “Over” which makes little sense. However, look at that nifty logo for Burt’s Shoes! That indicates to us that this card was printed in 1878 or so.

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Boots and Shoes

Click image to enlarge.

Here we have another issue with proportion. Either that’s one giant parakeet or one very small kitten. In any event, they’re not friends. To be accurate, the parakeet doesn’t really seem to care too much. He’s unfazed, but the kitten is entirely incensed.

That said, I find this card delightful and smiled when I found it amongst a new set of Victorian trade cards. In fact, I think that’s what I find appealing. It’s just such a Victorian scene. I’m not sure what the parakeet is sitting on. It looks like a box of matzo, but doubt it. Whatever it is, in pure 1880s fashion, it’s draped in a shawl and adorned with rosebuds and wheat.

This, of course, is a stock trade card which would have been selected from a catalog. The selector, it appears, was one:

HENRY DAMON, 
Boots & Shoes. 
25 Essex Street, 
BOSTON. 

The printer is listed as “something unreadable” Stetson, Printer, Quincy, Mass.

Let’s see what the reverse says:

HENRY DAMON, 

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL 

------------------------------

---<< BOOTS AND SHOES, >>--- 

------------------------------

25 ESSEX STREET, 

BOSTON. 

O.M.A.      M.R.A.      H.C.      and      U.F. 

I have no idea what those initials mean. All I know is that these two natural enemies—parakeet and cat—will forever be frozen in a strange, blasé, antagonistic dance. And, that, to me, is neat.

Click Image to Enlarge.

Gifts of Grandeur: The Harrods Shoe Snuffbox, c. 1870

Snuffbox, 1870-1880
The Talbot Collection at
The Victoria & Albert Museum

In the Nineteenth Century, boots and shoes were symbols of good luck. So, it was only natural that trinkets and personal objects should take the form of footwear. This snuffbox, dating between 1870 and 1880, is an excellent example of that phenomenon. The box is made in the shape of a fashionable Victorian lady’s button-boot of the 1860s. It is even adorned with metal studs just like the real thing would have been. The top of the boot forms the container for the snuff.

It’s a sure thing that this box was made in England, but other similar examples were imported from France at the time. The lid of the box is missing, but it’s still quite attractive. While most collectible snuffboxes were made of golf, hardstone or precious metals, some—like these novelty boxes—were made of wood. The mahogany box has been carefully hand painted, partly ebonized, and adorned with brass stringing, brass nails in the sole and heel, and brass and mother-of-pearl buttons.

Now part of the V&A’s Talbot Hughes Collection, the box was originally donated to the V&A by Messrs. Harrods of London in 1913. 

History's Runway: A Pair of Ladies Boots, c. 1865

Boots
French, 1865
The Victoria & Albert Museum

These red boots, laced at the back, are made of ribbed silk. They were designed to come up just above the ankle and are set with the then-fashionable “military” style heel. The heel has been covered in silk to match the uppers. They have are trimmed at the top with bobbin lace and ribbons.

London Society ladies of the 1860s and 1870s had a passion for these high-heeled French boots which were important from Parisian show-makers or often copied by English cobblers. According to the V&A, “The French influence was due to the stylish Empress Eugenie who had married the French emperor, Napoleon III, in 1853. She was probably responsible for the introduction of the shorter skirt which led to a greater emphasis on stockings and shoes.” Such boots tended to be rather gaudy by Nineteenth Century standards and were made in a variety of bold, bright colors thanks to the chemical aniline dyes which were introduced in the 1860s.