Putting your foot in it

Mind Moves: You would think that the shoe would be a simple shield between sole and street, defending the walker from the road…

Mind Moves: You would think that the shoe would be a simple shield between sole and street, defending the walker from the road's roughness and ensuring that no dangerous objects penetrate the pedestrian. No so. The shoe is an object of spectacular sociological data, for it encases the female foot in a way that has engaged men and women since fashion began with the fig leaf.

Psychology has paid insufficient attention to the female foot and the mental machinations that accompany its encasing. Apart from a discrete literature, focusing primarily on paraphiliac fantasies, including of course the significant shoe fetishes, little is said about the psychology of popular preoccupation with shoes that has converted covering the foot into a multimillion, multinational industry.

If fetishism involves obsessive, inappropriate love, then a peep into many women's wardrobes may provide evidence of pathology. For the shoe is not just a love object for women, it is an object that is loved.

It provides indices of age, occupation, interest, advantage and the knowledge of appropriate attire that the wearer displays for those cognisant with the message communicated by the style, colour, shape, serviceability, function or frivolity of the chosen pair. Shoes are social and sociological signals to those who look down on others to see what shoes they are wearing.

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There was a time when nationality was uniquely distinguished by shoes: the clogs of Holland, the beautiful Indian mojaris, the Siberian sami shoes made of reindeer, the pampooties of the Aran Islands along with our own durable brogues. Meanwhile, the Manchu women in China were notable for their New Year's Eve display of beautiful embroidered shoes, to the base of which were attached blocks to protect their delicacy from dirt. And even in present times, one can inadvertently put one's foot in it culturally, by wearing shoes into Japanese homes rather than leaving them at the geta-bako or shoe cupboard in the entrance area as tradition in many Asian cultures require.

What of the delicacy of the aristocratic French foot? Who knows if the anger engendered in the impoverished French peasant soul for revolution was not more about the affront of silver-buckled, jewel-encrusted feet emerging from carriages than the suggestion that they eat cake.

The original Birkenstocks are to this day linked with German utilitarian orthopaedic footwear although Doc Martens became deliberate punk protest footwear for a while. But the Italians have always outshone, with Italian designer Salvatore Ferragamo being one of the first to put new synthetic material to use in shoes. And who but the Italians would have provided the stiletto, the source of men's fantasies and women's most secret desires? Or consider the Renaissance Venetian chopines, sculpturesque works of art more than items of clothing. To this day the peeping toe, the slung back heel, the seductive sandal and quintessential good taste are to be found in Italian design.

Climate dictates outdoor wear and while Gene Kelly may have had a spring to his step while singing in the rain, rain is the ruination of delicately adorned feet. Yet what young woman would ever succumb to comfort and wear sensible, serviceable shoes when a figment of fabric and imagination can festoon her feet?

Why the shoe should have imprinted so scantily on psychological research is a mystery given the information shoe analysis provides into the female psyche and the "sole" of society itself. Furthermore, research is rendered ridiculously easy in that one sitting in Grafton Street alone could provide significant quantitative and qualitative shoe research results on the progress of the populace in our times.

Where would forensics be without footwear: the footprint below the privet an inevitable clue for the Miss Marples and Poirets of past popular suspense before technology made slivers of tissue more relevant to fictional thrillers.

But footwear can never be aurally redundant if one considers the click clack of heels, squeak of soles, clump of wedges and tap, tap of tiptoeing, indulged in on the stairway by those who wish to keep their late arrival home a secret from either alert parental or spousal ears.

Many men are unaware that they compete for their wives' affections with Christian Dior, Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo, or that SJP's lifestyle has more influence on their mate's desires than they. And when a woman starts whispering "my manolos myself" and changes from being sensibly shod to slipping into reptile skins, T-bars, silver sandals or Berties, then it's time for him to pay attention.

A psychological vocabulary surrounds the shoe. Being well-heeled hints at understated wealth while being on one's uppers means reduced to the remnants of over-worn shoes. Putting one's foot in it is to be avoided while behaving like a heel describes the basest of behaviour. Without the right shoes, how can you put your best foot forward, be in step with the times, march out in style or be footloose and fancy free?

It is no coincidence that the shoe has a tongue: for shoes speak to the wearer in a particular way, as they do to those who watch what others wear. All of which begs this question: what do your shoes say about you?

Marie Murray is director of psychology at St Vincent's Hospital, Fairview.