Bows and ribbons

or shoe-repair... It both doesn't really sound like my kind of thing, does it? 

And yet, I just "repaired" a pair of shoes using a ribbon.

You see, when I came home of Saturday afternoon, my shoes looked like this:

The right shoe had lost its suede bow. It must have happened while I was walking around in town but I had not noticed. Of course, it's a shame because although I've had these shoes for a couple of years, they are still good. And obviously, I am not the kind of person who wants to throw out a perfectly good item just because a piece of decoration has fallen off.

So, on Monday, I looked for, and found some ribbon in a colour which matches the shoes. In fact, I bought two kinds of ribbon, the other one matching the darker trim. When I started playing around with the shoes and ribbon though, I quickly decided to go with just the taupe colour.

I folded pieces of ribbon into a double bow and sewed down its center line. Then, I folded the bow in the middle and stitched the folds. And then, I tried to sew it under the now-empty loop of ribbon on the right shoe. When I tried it, that whole bit of ribbon came out so I just trimmed it down to a more convenient length, sewed the join to the back of my bow and then tacked the whole thing on the remaining ribbon bow on the shoe. With the left shoe, I had to pull out the original bow first. With it gone, it became clear that the ribbons on the shoes were not that symmetric. I didn't want to try and change that. Those ribbons were partially glued on and had bits of machine sewing holding them in place as well (I had noticed that before, it was a big reason why I didn't try to remove the trim altogether after I lost that bow). 

Of course, I'm absolutely no expert at decorating shoes but I think this little repair job turned out well:

At least they now match again. I just hope the ribbon won't react too badly to the occasional drop of rain...

Whom the shoe fits...

Whom the shoe fits, wears it. Is that even an expression in English? I may just have translated that fairly litterally from a Dutch expression which basically means that a comment (usually but not per se a negative one) should be listened to by those it applies to, while the others are free to ignore it. 


In this case however, it's not meant to be an expression...
I found these last Saturday at the market: vintage shoes. And they were in my size and after some deliberation, the sellers agreed that they were 2 euros a pair. Of course, at that price, I had to take them home.

I went for these lovely things first. They've been worn but not a lot. They're still in very good shape. Leather shoes, with cute bows and a wooden heel. Very pretty, although that elegantly shaped heel is quite unstable (I think that's down to its placement. So far forward). The text on the insole is in Dutch, so I guess they were at the very least sold and maybe even produced in the Netherlands. No idea about the date though.

There lovely black sandels with their dainty ankle straps were next. Their shape looks similar to what I've seen in early 50's magazines, the stitching has discoloured a bit with age (old black thread often goes brown-ish). 

The insoles look a little worn, but they also contain quite a bit of information. I loved this: 'lasted by hand' Wow.
There's also a brand name in one shoe and a store name in the other, both American, both unknown to me (A'mano Californian Bootier and O'Connor&Goldberg of New York and Chicago respectively, just in case you were wondering)

And last but not least... I was look at these before I even considered buying. I was marvelling at their outrageous look. Of course they had to come too. These  exotic slippers have definately seen better days. I think all the colours have faded and browned a little and the insoles have warped and cracked (I've put a bit of fabric inside, otherwise the weight of those rosettes pushes the front of the shoe flat). They're slippers with a low vamp so I don't think anyone would have liked to walk in them for a longer distance. But what a look...
I can easily imagine how the first two pairs might have been worn. The tan ones with a neatly tailored suit in spring (because of the light colour), the black ones with a dress. But these? Lavish home parties? The opening night of 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Raincoat'? 

Oh, and this is a store name I have read about (over at Couture Allure): Bonwit Teller, Chicago. I'm still not familiar with the brand, created by Jerro, New York.


If anyone has any idea about the dates of these shoes or any suggestions about their original habitat (occasion, outfit etc.), please speak up. I only know they all came from the same house.