Evening slippers 1896 - 1900

Curator: Before us, we have a photograph titled "Evening Slippers," dating from somewhere between 1896 and 1900, currently held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Editor: They look delicate, almost otherworldly in their paleness. Very pretty, in a formal, restrained way. I can practically hear the rustle of silk taffeta! Curator: Absolutely. And the presentation underscores certain expectations of femininity during the Gilded Age: ornamentation, a focus on material refinement, the constriction and idealization of the female form. Editor: And labor! Think of the hands involved in sourcing the silk, weaving the fabric, crafting the shoe itself, applying that delicate beading, the very subtle but apparent branding... Luxury like this depended on an army of workers, many poorly paid, and most of them likely women themselves. Curator: Precisely. We cannot divorce this seemingly simple still life from the complex economics of the era and gender roles, can we? These slippers also speak to a particular class, and therefore exclusion of those outside of the higher spheres of society, yes? Editor: For sure. How telling that this display foregrounds a name – Francis O’Neill. That single name hints at the network of producers, sellers, and consumers caught up in these acts of decoration. The materials tell such interesting truths if we're willing to attend to them closely. Curator: And in these accessories of leisure, aren’t the material excesses meant to visually confirm a certain economic power, while signaling also a culturally defined respectability. Editor: Looking at this photograph reminds me to think of the social cost that accompanied this lifestyle—it’s the starting point from which the true impact and importance of such “fashion merchandise” takes root. Curator: It’s an aesthetic snapshot that demands further thought when put within its historical frame, yes. Editor: I'll never look at a pretty pair of shoes quite the same way again!