There we may learn of suits of armour between three and four hundred years old which must have belonged to men substantially over six feet in height. The slender proportions of the calves and ankles shown by the leg armour are misleading, I am informed, becuase it was made only for the upper classes, who were invariably horsemen. The same remarks apply to shoes, for I am assured by the directors of two of the oldest-established shoe companies in London that the difference in the size of women's feet in the last generation or two is more apparent than real. The average size has altered since the First World War from 5 to 6, exactly quarter of an inch. Since it is no longer the custom to squeeze the foot into a tight shoe, it may indeed be concluded that, by naked measurement, the difference is almost negligible.
Women simply buy larger shoes because constricted feet are out of fashion.
The fact that most of the dresses shown here are worn with autentic shoes must, in itself, modify any extravagant inferences as to the extent of the change. Throughout the Victorian era, and before, smallness of the foot was passionately admired, and we may be sure that numbers of ladies bore the torment of fearfully tight shoes. Judging from the coorespondence columns of the magazines, there was a great deal of suffering from corns and other foot troubles. Those pretty pointed little boots and slippers of the seventies and eightees certainly concealed much unsightlyness. Humorous references to the tight gloves of fashionable or would-be fashionable young men may be found in many novels.