Shoes in the 1880s

I was looking for some old family photographs with shoes for this week's Sepia Saturday and came up empty handed. Nearly every photo seems to cut off the feet and shoes. For all I know they sat for portraits with no shoes on at all. I do have some very nice shoe advertisements from the 1880s though. One of my favorites is the trade card featuring solar tip shoes.

I somehow had this idea that solar tip shoes would be open in the front, allowing the sun to warm your toes. Not so. Instead, they were especially durable tips made by folding the sole leather over the tip of the shoe.

This is one of the few trade cards for shoes that highlights the shoes at all. Many of the advertisements simply showed heartwarming scenes that had nothing to do with shoes, like this one:

And this one:

Many just had their business name printed on stock advertising cards. These could just as well have been ads for a grocery store or watch repair.

So, I had to wonder what the shoes of the 1880s were really like. I know that women's shoes had a high heel and a narrow toe and didn't look comfortable at all. On the other hand, when I went to the Wisconsin Historical Museum's online collection to look at the examples of children's footwear of the era, they not only seem well made, they look soft and comfortable. You can see the shoe collection here.

Step on over to Sepia Saturday to see more posts on shoes.

The Endicott Johnson Shoe Factory

Last Saturday I mentioned that my mother-in-law's parents came from Moravia and settled in Binghamton, New York, where they worked at the Endicott Johnson shoe factory. Here's a postcard of a stitching room at the factory, circa 1915.

Endicott-Johnson had a great reputation for treating workers well and building quality housing and public facilities such as libraries, parks, and golf courses.

Here's a photo of the stitching room staff in 1937. The red arrow points to Elizabeth Tomecek, the mother of Josephine from last week's post.

Photo by George H. Pennell, Commercial Photographer, Endicott, New York

The photo seems to indicate that they were also manufacturing Red Cross shoes there. Red Cross was experiencing a boom at the time and may have partnered with Endicott Johnson to meet the demand. Click here to see a previous post on Red Cross shoes. If you want to know more about the history of Endicott-Johnson, there are a couple of very good sources, including a National Public Radio story from December, 2010, and a website created by Professor Gerald Zahavi of the State University of New York at Albany. Professor Zahavi promises to post additional material in the future, including oral histories.

Here's the back of the postcard.

The message reads:

Hello mama We are all feeling as usual. Gess you can read a little of it. When are you coming home.

S.C.S.

Sadly, Binghamton, Endicott, Johnson City, and surrounding areas are currently suffering through a catastrophic flood.

Be sure to wander over to Sepia Saturday for great old photos and the stories behind them.

Edwin Burt Fine Shoes

I posted a card previously for Edwin Burt fine shoes, but I like this one even better. Trade cards were very popular during the 1880s, but not really beyond then. Edwin Burt died in 1884.

Business in Binghamton #4

It's a very clever piece of artwork, with this couple sailing of in a boat shaped like a shoe, but the woman looks a little crazed. This card is from 1881.

Here's the back of the card:

The Ostrich Dude - Again

Remember the earlier post featuring the Ostrich Dude? Of course not, it was back in February. Here's a link to it, so you can take a look at those dude cards too. I did a little more delving, because I wanted to know more about the significance of the dude.  He seems to have had universal appeal, since the cards were printed with store names from different parts of the country.

I found a reference to the subject in a book called Masculinity and Men's Lifestyle Magazines edited by Bethan Benwell. A chapter of the book features one of the same ostrich dude trade cards from the previous post, but with a Michigan store name printed on the front.  The author, Bill Osgerby, explains that during the late 19th century, fashion had very feminine associations. Debonair and dapper men may have been admired by some, but they were also the object of a certain amount of ridicule.

Osgerby suggests that the term 'dude' was probably derived from the German-American usage of Dudenkopf or idiot. Over the years, male fashions became more acceptable and the term dude largely lost its negative connotations. But at the time these cards were printed (1880s), the dude was still an object of scorn. I also get a sense from these cards that regular guys were afraid that women might fall for the guys wearing fancy clothes.

Note the difference between the real man and our poor dude. The real man is well dressed, but without the embellishments of watch fobs, a monocle, spats, plaid patterns, fancy tails, high collar, and shiny lapel pins. Our real man is also able to fight with his fists; the dude doesn't have any. Poor dude!

Captured by the Dude

I thought I'd segue from one dude to another. Yesterday I mentioned The Dude from the movie, The Big Lebowski. Today it's a dude of a different feather and a different century. The card dates from around 1880 and is a trade card rather than a postcard. I don't know why the dude is pictured as an ostrich. If you know, please enlighten me.

There are a number of advertising cards featuring the dude; they were not exclusive to T.W. Perry's. Here are a few more:

And this one, which is virtually the same as the first:

Red Cross Shoes -Elmira, New York

Run on down to Sheehan Dean Co. in Elmira, NY and buy a pair of these lovely shoes for only $6.50. They may be out of stock though. And you will need to do some time traveling, because they closed in 1936. Both the Sheehan and Dean families included  distinguished citizens of Elmira. Daniel Sheehan served as Elmira's police commissioner, postmaster and mayor. Elmer Dean, who died in 1940, was a trustee of Elmira College. Sheehan Dean Co. was a dry goods store,  also selling furniture and clothing in addition to shoes.

At one point, Red Cross shoes were the most popular shoe in the U.S. and the company was listed on the New York Stock Exchange. Red Cross shoes had no connection with the American National Red Cross though, and it's no surprise that the Red Cross objected to having its name used in a commercial manner. The House Foreign Affairs Commission even proposed a ban on the brand name in 1942, but the company voluntarily suspended use of the name before the ban could be enacted. However, they resumed use of the name years later, with the provision that they would publicly disclaim any association with the American National Red Cross. You can still buy Red Cross shoes today, but the styles are limited to nurse's shoes and a few loafer styles, and they cost more than $6.50.

Order for Shoes and Boots

This card is a wholesale order for boots and shoes, sent to John Leutz, Allentown, PA in 1895. The order was filled; you can see the word "booked" written in pencil over the order...also a blue check mark. It's not easy to decipher though. This is what I can make out of the message:

Please ship us

1 Case Ladies gums low cut

(various sizes listed)

12 pr boys gum shoes 1 to 5

6 pr misses gums #2

1pr boys gums #5 low cut fancy

If not all ready received ship us 6 pr boys gum boots leather sole #5

1 pr #8 shoes for felt boots.

yours truly

J S Wentz Co

Hazelbrook, PA  3/11/95

But J.S Wentz Co. was not a shoe seller, it was a coal mining operation! What were they doing ordering all these shoes and boots? I can only guess that since the company provided housing for its workers, it may have also operated a company store.

There was a history of labor disputes at J.S. Wentz. The Auburn Bulletin of June 23, 1887 reported a judgment for $300 in favor of six miners who had their "goods and chattels thrown into the streets" when they were evicted from the houses of J.S. Wentz Co. They were also awarded back pay. It was reported that J.S. Wentz Co. planned to appeal the case. The company's owner, John S. Wentz, was a millionaire and lived in Philadelphia at 38th and Locust streets.

In 1903, Edward Wentz, the son of John S. Wentz, disappeared in Virginia on his way to meet with land agents. A $30,000 reward was offered for his return alive or for the capture of his murderers. I think they were pretty much resigned to the fact that he had been murdered. All of the mining operations of the Wentz estate and the Virginia Coal and Iron Co. were suspended and the 1,000 miners, who earned $2 a day, were ordered to join in the search. It was suspected that Edward had fallen victim to a mountain clan in retribution for his crusade against squatters and moonshiners. His family dismissed rumors that Edward may have left the country because of a love disappointment, saying that he had no particular interest in any woman (Source: NY Times, October 24, 1903.)

Edward Wentz had indeed been slain, however it was not true that he had no particular interest in a woman either. In his will he left $500,000 to his fiancee, Cornelia Brookmire of St. Louis, Missouri.