A TALE OF TRIUMPH OVER . . . . DE FEET:

HOW TWO SCOTS FOUND NEAR-PERIOD SHOES THAT FIT

BY MUNGO NAPIER, LAIRD OF MALLARD LODGE  🦆

mallardlodge1000_at_gmail.com

During the 17 or so years Lady Sarah Sinclair and I have played in the SCA, we have endured several catastrophic footwear fiascoes. Our sad shoe tales may help those who are new to our world, or those advising newcomers. And to seasoned members who have suffered their own painful shoe misadventures, you are not alone.

Nobody . . . uh . . . stepped forward to advise us about shoes when we first began to gather our garb back in 2007. Maybe we just didn’t know what questions to ask, or whom we should have asked. 

SCA literature suggested Chinese slippers for first shoes (above). These are cheap rubber-soled Mary Janes with cloth uppers. Smaller sizes for women usually have a strap, but the men’s sizes I found all lacked straps. We bought some, but quickly moved on to more substantial footwear, or so I thought.

My first so-called period boots (left, in the red oval) were purchased from one of those large online renfaire vendors. These rather pricey boots turned out to be a smaller size than they were marked, and they weren’t even real leather. They were soon retired. Lesson: garb and accessories from online renfaire vendors are often inaccurate, expensive and shoddy; stick with reputable SCA-oriented vendors. Ask your friends for recommendations (or email me!).

Our next shoes were some inexpensive faux-suede ladies’ scrunch boots from K-Mart (right). These were o.k. for Lady Sarah, though she soon did better. When writing this story, I found four new pairs of her scrunch boots still lurking in our garb closet’s shadowy corners, along with three unworn pairs of Chinese slippers.

The largest scrunchies I could find were vaguely called women’s “large” (likely EU size 39 or 40). I wear a men’s size 10.5 or 11 (EU sizes 43-43), so these were a very tight fit and had seriously narrow toe boxes. They were barely tolerable for an afternoon demo, but I got into real trouble when I wore a pair over the three days we spent at our first Pennsic (#37). By the third day of hobbling about my toes were a bruised mess. I eventually lost the nails from both big toes, and they have never completely recovered. The fake-o-leather was also permeable, and my feet were soaked after trudging around in dewy grass. Lesson: cheap substitute shoes can ruin your feet, so don’t skimp.

Lady Sarah found it easy to solve her shoe problems. She bought, or already had, a pair of good quality nearly flat-soled Mary Janes (left). Modern Mary Jane shoes do have medieval ancestors, and are generally considered acceptable as SCA wear for both women and men. If possible, look for shoes with buckle straps. Finding men’s sizes is not easy, and they will likely have to be bought online or special ordered.

Later Lady Sarah went to an equestrian tack store and bought a pair of Dublin-brand “River” women’s riding boots (below) to wear on the archery range. These very high-quality boots cost a small fortune (at least it seem so to this penny-pinching Scot). They look great though. If you go with riding boots, make sure they don’t have a visible zipper. Pull-ons are even better.

Early on the second day at Pennsic I limped into a well-known reenactment shoe vendor's tent, Native Earth Footwear, where I put down my credit card on a pair of their two-button, side-lacing low-quarter boots. The salesman promised he would pound them to soften the leather for me, and I picked them up the next day. My K-Mart specials went right into the nearest oubliette (trash can to the uninitiated). Despite the salesman’s reassurances the boots would be soft, they weren’t soft enough, and did even more damage to my already mangled feet. Lesson: Break in new footwear slowly; Pennsic is NOT a good place to wear new boots or shoes.

I wore these boots for several years, though I had a lot of trouble lacing them. I am mildly dyslexic, and after losing the instruction sheet I could never quite remember how to loop the laces around the buttons so they would hold. I usually got the right shoe tight after a couple tries, but had major problems doing everything backwards for the left. Finally in desperation, I bought some Saxon-style low-quarter buckle boots via Native Earth’s web site. My befuddled brain could handle the buckles pretty well, and I was lucky the boots fit well. Lesson: Buying shoes online is always risky; stick with in-person vendors if possible. 

Two-button lace boot (left) and Saxon buckle-boot (right)

I liked wearing both these boot styles, but after several years they had passed their prime. Both pairs started taking on water almost as fast as the Titanic after its appointment with the iceberg, probably as the stitching between the toes and the soles stretched and loosened. Both had flat foot beds which offered zero arch or heel support. I added inserts, but they pushed my toes up into the top of the toe boxes, and my feet were often quite painful by the end of a day’s activities. I eventually lost the nails on both my second toes (at Pennsic 41 and 42), and when the nails grew back they were all wonky and brittle. I wore the thickest wool socks I could find, but they actually made the shoes even tighter. Lesson: Even the best reenactment shoes are not necessarily scientifically designed and might not be a good choice for everyone’s feet.

Just before the plague struck, I stopped by our local Red Wing shoe store to buy a pair of steel-toed work boots. The pair President Ford gave me in 1975 (through a Coast Guard supply officer at Training Center Alameda) having finally worn out. This time I brought my inserts and the thickest wool socks I owned to the fitting, and specified the roomiest toe box possible. At last! Comfort! Of course, these are not period-style, and I only wear them at SCA events during set-up chores.

While browsing Red Wing’s other offerings, I spotted their Style 3322 low-top “chukka” boots (right). Except for modern soles, they looked much like some lace-up Viking boots sold by Native Earth. I came back to the store later with a printout from Native Earth’s web pages to compare. Bingo! A near match. When my checking account recovered from the work boots, I bought a brown pair of the chukkas, bringing my inserts and thickest socks to the fitting and choosing a size that was extra roomy. The laces were modern woven cord, so I also bought Red Wing’s best-quality leather laces. The salesman had them dyed to match the boots at no extra charge. I finally found the shoes that I, and my long-abused feet, had . . . dare I say it . . . ached for over the past ten or so years.

Returning to Red Wing the next year, I bought another pair of chukkas, this time in black. I freely admit to being rather "fashion conscious”, and try to color-match my accessories. It is important for Mungo’s masked good-guy-for-hire alter ego, the Scarlet Varlet, to look good when he is relieving a rapacious landlord of his purse or trouncing some oppressive evil-doer. Style counts in my line of work. Choosing between black or brown depends on whether I am packing a sword, and the weapon’s scabbard or baldric color. Besides lots of red tunics, hosen, hoods and hats, my garb closet has both black and brown belts, sporrans, dagger sheaths, tankard straps, and side pouches (for a small camera I usually carry, but almost always forget to use). So I just HAD to buy a pair of black shoes to complete both ensembles. Imelda Marcos certainly would have understood.

By the way, my modern wool socks are not visible. Like a good Scot, I usually wear short leggings called “mogens” held in place by woven wool garters, which extend down onto my boots and do an excellent job hiding any non-period hosiery (right, with the buckle boots at the Virginia Renfaire). The mogens also give me a place to tuck a small dagger, the sgian-dubh that all Scots are expected by the modern public to wear. Admittedly this is an 18th century accessory, but a dirk in your stocking is always waaaay cool! You can barely see the hilt below and outside my right knee in the photo.

Birkenstock makes two shoe styles that also might be acceptable as compromise footwear for SCA use. Their classic strapped clog for both men and women is called “Boston”, and features wide rounded toes that vaguely resemble some period shoes. Birkenstock also makes a similar shoe called “London” with a full heel-back. I have owned several pairs of both styles and they are very comfortable. I haven’t worn Birks (below) to a garbed SCA event . . . yet.

Recently among the catalog blizzard that clogs our mailbox I spotted Clark’s-brand “Shacre” chukka boots (below) that also have stand-in possibilities. I have never seen anything quite like them in period illustrations, but they do have that “local cobbler” look. Add leather laces and these boots should cause no raised eyebrows. Web searches on the Birkenstock, Dr. Martens, Clark’s, Dansko, or other shoe vendor web sites might turn up more styles with period flavor.

While some SCA garb purists may cringe in horror, period shoe style is less important than comfort and foot health. Although I don’t recommend canvas gym shoes or Crocs, there are modern shoes that fit well, can protect your feet, and still look at least presentable for SCA use. Remember, we’re supposed to make a reasonable attempt at pre-17th century garb and accessories. Lesson: The term “reasonable” does allow for some compromise when comfort and health are involved.

Your feet can’t talk, but they will thank you.