Every Clog Has Its Day

Pour le jardin

It's been awhile since I posted any truly antique clogs on this blog. But when I saw this pair listed on Etsy recently, I knew I had to reserve a slot just for them. Wood soled shoes have long been valued for their ability to withstand water and mud and without deteriorating like leather shoes. Hence their popularity in Europe among both farm workers and factory workers in days gone by. Not surprisingly this same durability made wood clogs the footwear of choice for people who enjoyed puttering about in the muck and damp of their gardens. Just like their contemporary plastic brethren, these shoes would reside by the side door to be slipped on whenever one wanted to harvest a few vegetables or do a little weeding. The garden clogs below reveal a unique sole studded with nails to provide traction and prevent wear. And the sturdiness of the construction is clear from how well they've held up in spite of their clearly rigorous use. Hooray for the lowly clog. A shoe that can weather the roughest of treatment and still come through ready to perform for another day. 

The size of this pair is uncertain, but the insole measures 9". Offered for sale from La Rochelle, a small community on the western coast of France, by Etsy seller petitbrocante.

 

 

Sherman, set the Wayback Machine...

People have been having fun in wooden shoes for about as long as people have had feet. Well, that's an exaggeration. Clearly that 5,000 year old shoe that was unearthed recently in Armenia was probably closer to what our ancient ancestors first started sporting at their neolithic shopping malls. But while many of us were first introduced to clogs in the 1970s, the idea of constructing a shoe out of wood has been around for far longer.

This pair of child's clogs came from eBay seller r_griffin who deals primarily in antiques and collectibles. The rough hewn quality gives them a certain charm, though it's hard to imagine myself doing the things I used to do as a kid with only a pair of clogs to wear on my feet. But hey, if you grew up in the era before rubber tennis shoes, you learned to make do.

Meanwhile over on Etsy.com, seller Forever Classique has this pair of children's 19th century clogs for sale currently.  I'll let her describe them:

These little shoes are absolutely amazing. They are done in a heavy brown leather nailed onto a wooden sole. The wooden soles have metal plates aroung the edges. From what I have researched these date around the 1850's and were worn by children working in the mines and in the mills. The wooden soles and metal plates helped keep their feet from absorbing the moisture keeping them warmer. The front of the shoes fasten with a metal buckle. They measure 7-1/2" in length and are 2-1/4" across the ball of the foot.

Then from somewhat nearer our own period in time, eBay seller dcasewoods offered these early 20th century men's oxfords. They say that those who live unaware of the past are doomed to repeat it. Strangely, in fashion that's seen as a plus. Yet I also view shoes like these and marvel at how far we've come.  
 

  

Magnifique!

And so à propos at this time of year! 

 

Especially when you consider that once upon a time in France children observed the approaching holiday by putting their sabots (or wooden clogs) on the hearth for Père Noël to fill with gifts as he made his rounds on Christmas Eve. Père Noël, as you might guess, has his equivalent in the British Isles as Father Christmas and is well known in the U. S. as Santa Claus. We've made some other changes in the holiday, too. With typical American gusto we have replaced those humble wooden shoes with more voluminous stockings on the mantle and giant wrapped boxes under the tree. No way are you going to fit an Xbox 360 into a pair of Nikes! On the other hand, I don't think I would warm to the French tradition which has adults waiting until New Year's Day to give each other presents. No matter. I intend to celebrate the season with my own particular spin: putting a pair of wooden clogs under the tree...to unwrap and wear!

 

The sabots pictured in today's post come our way courtesy of eBay seller frenchcollection. Jo is the woman behind all the French collectibles you'll find posted in her online store. She's also a graphic designer, illustrator, and writer. Somehow in the midst of all her creative projects she finds time to visit the brocante sales (similar to a flea market) that crop up from time to time. These sabots were originally on eBay back in October, but when she sent along the photo below of the basket of old clogs with an accompanying story, I knew I needed to stop dawdling and get them online tout de suite!

May I be the first to wish you Joyeux Noël?

  

 

"They were standing on a carpet of autumn leaves at the annual brocante sale in Lisieux, Normandy, which takes place every November, filling the streets of the town. Unfortunately, just after taking this photo and stopping for a quick recharge of coffee, the heavens opened. The deluge caused most of the 800+ stallholders to pack up and leave..."

You want vintage? I'll show you vintage!

Clogs originated as workingman's footwear designed to keep the feet to warm and dry in cold and damp environments. (Think the medieval equivalent of garden clogs.) The all wooden variety with upturned toes are recognized the world over as symbols of the Dutch culture. Scandinavian countries are also traditionally associated with clogs, though France and England also had their versions of wood soled footwear. This pair of antique clogs was actually discovered in France by eBay seller brocantosorous. Julie and her husband left their native Scotland to live in the French countryside. The home they purchased had been owned by a 92 year old woman named Elise Lambert. As Julie explained to me, this pair of French sabots came with the house.

She was an amazing lady, never married, who was 99% self sufficient. She grew all her own fruit and veg and kept rabbits, chicken and goats for meat, eggs, and milk for goat cheese. The only thing she bought regularly was bread. She passed away peacefully in 2005 in her field, lying watching her goats feed. These were her clogs, a wonderful, old pair of French leather sabots with hobnails in the soles and heels. Peasant shoes for work in the fields. These are dirty, used and worn - both outer heel edges are worn down, most of the heel nails are worn away and the leather is solid now rather than pliable. And there are worm holes in the wood!

(Pssst. For something just as wooden and just as French, but a whole lot more contemporary, stop by tomorrow for a peek at the work of an exceptional new shoe designer.)