Still in Style: Vintage Shoes

WHEN THE NATIONAL Museum of American History reopens Friday, we don't advocate breaking the glass and trying on the 1930s ruby slippers Judy Garland wore to play Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz." But one glance at the sequined babies drives home how glamorous shoes from past decades can be.

And while Dorothy's sparkly pair might fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction, you can often score a pair of slouchy 1980s boots, 1960s mod flats or another piece of wearable history for less than it would cost to buy a DVD of the yellow brick road-walking classic.

"Shoes are an untapped part of the resale market, so they can often be quite cheap to buy," says Caroline Cox, professor of cultural history at the University of the Arts London and author of the new "Vintage Shoes: Collecting and Wearing 20th-Century Designer Footwear" ($40, Collins Design).

"Buying vintage shoes is a way of standing out and getting something that's better quality than you could find at the mall," says Katerina Herodotou, whose Listopad pop-up store at Mercedes Bien (2423 18th St. NW) traffics in 1960s saddle pumps, disco-era knee boots and the occasional pair of 1980s high tops. "There's a demand for the stuff, boots in particular."

Desirable styles — many riffed on by modern designers from Christian Louboutin to Nine West — change with the winds of fashion and at the whim of the wearer. Eisenhower-era pumps — higher than their footwear forbearers, thanks to the invention of the steel-enforced stiletto — sell well now, thanks to "Mad Men." Chunky-heeled 1940s platforms and 1980s cone heels mimic the current passion for clunky statement shoes.

"Many shoes you see at the mall look like vintage ones," says Susan Collings, owner of Takoma Park's Polly Sue's Vintage Shop (6915 Laurel Ave., 301-270-5511). "That's ultimately what makes the real ones popular."

Still, sticking your tootsies into, well, used footwear, isn't without a certain ick factor. "Unlike many vintage items, shoes literally have the imprint of the former wearer," says Cox. "There used to be folktales about what you could get from them, all sorts of horrible diseases."

To avoid any fungus-among-us paranoia, Cox suggests putting new insoles in your old T-straps or those Mary Janes Grandma once wore. You can also seek out so-called "dead stock," aka never-worn pairs. Vintagevixen.com carries a wide range of styles from various eras: flapper-era lace-ups in black suede ($65), cobalt blue suede 1950s stilettos ($34).

At Takoma Park's Moonshadow Vintage (7000-C Carroll Ave., 301- 270-8775), owner Karen Leeman carries a few pairs of fresh-from-a-long-closed-factory 1960s pumps (red velvet stilettos, silver mock alligator mid-heels) by Joseph La Rose, a Florida designer beloved by Joan Crawford and Marilyn Monroe. "I didn't do shoes before, because I like to stock clean, beautiful things," says Leeman. "But these are pristine, so people are more comfortable buying them."

Good spots to literally step back in time include both brick-and-mortar and online vintage boutiques. Locally, Annie Creamcheese (3279 M St. NW; 202-298-5555), boasts loads of mid-century cowboy boots; Polly Sue's showcases well-priced styles from the 1940s through the 1960s, including, on a recent visit, killer World War II-era silver evening sandals ($50) fit for dancing to MIA or the Andrews Sisters. Online, eBay brims with out of-the-past footwear, and Tangerineboutique.com hawks pumps et al by size.

Still, before you fall in love with a pair of 1940s wedges that would make Carmen Miranda swoon, keep a few things in mind. One, "you don't want to buy something that doesn't fit properly," says Cox. "If you're buying shoes sight unseen, you'll need to get the vendor to measure them." Also, don't be surprised by the glut of teeny-tiny shoes. "The further you get into the past, the smaller the sizes," says Leeman, pointing to a pair of Gatsby-era slippers in her shop that seem as though only fit only an American Girl doll. And assess any pair you covet for heavy wear and aging — worn soles, missing heel caps, fraying velvet. "Bear in mind that some people don't even wear their vintage shoes," says Cox. "They simply display them around the home, like beautiful objects."

But, really, while we respect the idea of keeping rare slippers under glass, it's more fun to take a pair of old-yet-lovely shoes out for a walk or a night on the dance floor. "Maybe, if you're going to wear a really precious pair, don't wear them for long," says Cox. "Take them to a party in your bag, and then change into them once you get there."

Which is what most fashionistas do with their best Jimmy Choos anyway.

Jennifer Barger
Photo Courtesy of Getty images from 'Vintage Shoes,' Collins Design