Mourning the Lost Soles

I was talking with a friend today about historical costuming, and how what’s important to me in events and making isn’t how fancy an event is, or what era things are, it’s who I’m doing it with.

Because when you’re with the right people, even the simplest thing is a joy, and even the dumbest thing is hilarious.

Case in point: when you’re out for a walk in Medieval costumes, and you only get halfway down the (admittedly very long driveway) and someone’s shoe decides to bite the dust.

Medieval mischief

And then, like an absolute chucklehead, instead of getting her to stand there awkwardly on one foot while someone runs back to the house for backup shoes, you suggest that you should form a litter and carry her back to a handy log to sit on.

(The log was a couple of hundred meters back.  This was not a good idea).

Medieval mischief

Medieval mischief

It was, however, a hilarious idea.

Medieval mischief

Medieval mischief

We did NOT make it all the way back to the log.

Medieval mischief

And then, when we gave up, and new shoes were fetched, Lindset and Fil and Kezia decided to pose like a Medieval manuscript and hold a little ceremony for the deceased shoe.

Medieval mischief

Medieval mischief


Medieval mischief

They looked very sombre and elegant, right up until I commented, “Ah, are we mourning the lost soles then?”, and everyone lost it.

Medieval mischief


More about this day, with lots more photos, here

More about my dress here.


  1. nofixedstars says

    “mourning the lost soles”…i do love a good pun. especially in medieval attire. 🙂

  2. Dreamstress Dad in Hawaii says

    It goes without saying that THIS post deserves a comment.

    Oh!….well, I said it…

    Speaking of broken shoes:
    I typically have half a dozen pairs of “work shoes” in rotation. Because, in this tropical paradise of rain and persistent vegetation, use equals wet equals muddy equals need to dry out and cycle again. And the very basic Velcro-closure walking shoe I favor is quite adept at coming apart in various ways – especially when wet. So I shove the disassembling pair aside, relegating them to the Repair Queue. And the Queue grows….

    The solution? An appropriately named stickygoo named ShoeGlue.

    When the Repair Queue reaches adequate size – 6 to 10 items ( the wife tends to add a few donations to the cause ), I like to “make a morning” of it. NOT “mourning” – actually a bit of a celebration, in a maybe weird but VERY satisfying way. So, when the mood strikes, I make my morning cuppajava, spread a bit of newsprint, find my bin of parrot clamps, crack open the tube of ShoeGlue, and have at it. Oh does it feel good! In a world of things needing repair, this one I can do!

    As a morning meditation, there’s nothing quite like coffee, a broken shoe, and ShoeGlue! It’s completion, wrapped in confidence and calm.

    So, to the relevant point: A Title is in order for this phenomenon. Here goes:

    Dr. ShoeGlue
    How I Learned To Quite Worrying And Love The Balm

  3. I spent an entire /public/ parade having to walk backwards to prevent the sole of my Lucas 5s from flapping as badly, and a friend specifically trying to steal my sole all the while. It was hilarious.

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