Dear Jenny,
I just came from my debutante party, it was wonderful. I’m sitting here in bed at 3 am changing my foot bandages the way Mom taught me and I have to say that love my bound feet. I feel so comfortable with them. When I was a little girl my mother always said, as she tightened the bandages, that I’d thank her when I grew up. “You have to suffer for beauty,” she said. I would see the servants’ children running around the house and at that moment I hated her.
I wore those exquisite embroidered blue slippers with the very short pointy toes. You were so right! Green may be good luck but it’s also “flashy.” I entered the room with a tottering fragile grace – everyone was looking at me.
I sat down elegantly in one of the upright chairs and immediately tucked my feet back under my skirt so on it the tiny front half of the slippers showed.
A number of very attractive and well-thought-of young men asked to be introduced to me. I noticed that everyone admired me and then they would discreetly glance at my feet.
Mary Lou was there–you remember her from high school. Her mother was never as strict as ours about the foot bindings – her feet looked enormous. They were at least five inches long! I noticed she kept fluffing her skirt to hide them completely. Even men know what that means.
All the young men kept bringing me food and drink and I didn’t need to get out of the chair. But I stood up several times and took just a few steps in my delicate shoes so they should see how graceful I was. Mother was so proud.
Well, it’s late and I should go to sleep.
Love,
Beth
P.S. When I have a daughter, I’ll certainly make sure her feet are even more beautiful than mine.
bound feet , women, fashion, style, feminism, body image, Body Impolitic