For When Socks Just Aren’t Enough

Many ages ago in an enchanted forest in the wooded country of France, there was a man who was fed up with the little particles and stuff getting into his shoes and rubbing up against his skin and expediting the deterioration of his socks. Determined to put an end to his suffering, he took his mortar in one hand and his pestle in another and set out to fix the problems in his life. Unfortunately, these tools were useless for garment construction, and no pharmacist’s concoxion could effect an end to his particulate problems, so he sent off an order to the Sears catalogue and purchased spats.

While the preceding fable may be more fiction than fact, the agony of those who have suffered from abrasively aggravating atoms in their footwear is too real. If only the Jews had known of spats 2000 years ago, then Mary Magdalane might not have stirred up trouble by washing the feet of Jesus, who might have been able to live a long, fulfilling life, devoid of Pontius Pilates, angry mobs, and crucifixions.

Some of you may be wondering what exactly a spat looks like. Well, here is a public domain picture from Wikipedia:

You may have seen these on the feet of well-dressed dandies on the stroll from the late 1800′s until the Second World War. You may also have seen these on the feet of musicians in marching bands, or the soldiers of various militaries. You probably have not seen them on the feet of the present-day gentleman.

Some of you are probably wondering why anyone would need to keep dirt out of his shoes. Some of you may rarely get dirt in your shoes, if ever. But let us recall that in the days before our grandparents were born, before there were rubber-soled shoes, zipper flies, or even Volkswagens(!), the national pavement network was far less extensive. Dust and rocks abounded and were jettisoned from the roadway by every passing horse and carriage or horseless carriage. Most importantly, everything was covered in snow year-round, and people spent most of their time walking for miles up hills, which, due to the unusual seismic activity back then, often sank overnight and at lunchtime so that the poor schoolchildren would have to walk uphill both ways.

That said, we can now see that spats are in the class of garments that also encompasses raincoats, pocket protectors, and condoms: protective garments. Indeed, the full title, “spatterdash,” suggests that it is something for the “spatter” to be “dashed” upon. Leather shoes are difficult to wash; textile gaiters, leggins, or spats are easily washed. Those who shine their own shoes often would appreciate only having to shine the front of the shoe, since the rest of the shoe is covered by the spat and is, thus, protected from getting scuffed and invisible even if it gets scuffed.

So we have established the benefits of spats. Why, then, are they so unpopular? Well, first of all, paving is much more extensive, and shoes are less likely to become soiled as their wearers tread down city sidewalks (or, more likely, ride around in cars). Another possible explanation is that people today dress much more casually for traveling than they did a century ago, and that spats were particularly popular amongst travelers, what with the confusion of railroad stations, the dirt everywhere, the quite real possibility of one’s feet being tread upon, etc. Not wearing nice shoes to travel, people do not see a need to protect their sneakers. There is also the problem that spats are held in place by an all-important instep strap (also commonly seen on the very tight trousers and pantaloons of the Regency period, suggesting that spat-like ankle coverings were at one point incorporated into the trousers) which threads underneath the outsole in the raised area just in front of the heel.

The gap between the sole and the ground provides an ideal threading place for a strap

Many modern men’s dress shoes have a completely flat sole, thus making it impossible to wear spats without stepping on the strap and wearing it out very quickly.

Of course a very important factor to consider is the association of spats with the wealthy. Certainly there were many wealthy people who wore spats, but it does not seem the case that spat-wearers were exclusively the wealthy. Max Disher, the successful-but-not-necessarily-rich insurance-selling protagonist of George Schuyler’s 1931 novel Black No More, wears them, as does Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot in certain depictions. Nevertheless, the rich, particularly the snobbishly rich, especially young men born with silver spoons in their mouths, young men who would hardly have to work for their entire lives, were often depicted wearing spats. The past few decades have held a great disdain for the aristocracy, who were, admittedly, not altogether considerate of the good of society as a whole; thus, aristocratic mannerisms and styles have fallen out of favor as well.

Few of us today were alive during the era of spats, and so it seems unnecessary for us to bear the burden of our forebears stereotypes. Spats are something I would consider useful for the man who walks or cycles to his destinations in the large city in which he lives. I hope that, in my lifetime, the importance of automobile transportation diminishes for the average person’s daily commutes to work and leisure. With this change I would hope to see such practical garments as spats return to popularity. Knickerbockers have already regained popularity among cyclists.

Anyway, I can’t help but wonder what the rest of the world thinks of spats. Not necessarily the stark white ones; I am almost inclined to say that medium-gray or brown spats could be useful and unobtrusive today. But I am eager for someone to try to prove me wrong.

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