"My grandmother had a thing for far flung, historic foot ware. She was particularly enchanted with Istanbul and any feet that might have landed on the Silk Road. Fortunately, she married my grandfather who also loved travel and had plenty of money, so their apartment was full of the most interesting shoe related activities. Thus began the shoe wars. Each visit we would cram our fingers into the small brass ashtrays shaped like a Moroccan babouche and have races. Or flatten our toes into the place card settings styled after a Japanese zori until the first one screamed in pain. Which leather, block printed slipper was Anatolian, which was Ottoman? What mule was more comfortable, the blue crocaded silk of the caric style, 14th century, or, the more Russian influenced, made from old Uzbek ikats? We broke into loud disagreements always settled by my grandmother's authoritative clap clap of two 15th century french wood and leather estivaus. Here is the babouche that I surreptitiously pocketed during my last visit. The shoe wars escalate!"
Judy Zehr
