Time to bare your soles
(Filed: 10/08/2002)

Going barefoot is now quite acceptable, finds Sandy Mitchell

The season of sunny village fetes, sweltering country picnics and shoes and socks with a pong like strong Cheddar is upon us. There can be no more urgent question: is it socially acceptable to go barefoot?

Forget towns. Urban naked soles get nul points. The only exception is dancing barefoot in fountains. Then, according to strict etiquette, you should jump in only past midnight while fully attired above the ankle in a taffeta ball-gown and pearls, or full white tie and tails.

The country is definitely the more conventional place to unveil your metatarsals. But for those townies who might be considering the delight of buttercups and meadow grasses tickling the soles while tripping across the village green, remember that rural England is proudly conservative, and sometimes resentful of outsiders with racy ways. How careful should you be before you pull off your plimsolls or
slip off your sandals in full public view?

It is no joke. Before the First World War, people who chose not to wear shoes in public places met such fierce antagonism that they formed a group to fight back. The Barefoot League, as it was called, published a passionate pamphlet, Why this Practice is a Sure Beautifier of the Body.

Here is a taster: "Oh, the joy of touching the earth! Oh, the delight to feel your tread, your grip of earth!" Quite what blacksmiths, ploughmen and cattle-dealers in the shires made of this "grip of earth" stuff is not recorded.

Opinion hadn't changed much by the 1930s. A great-great-aunt once told me about an episode that marked her for life. Aunt Jane went to a summer WI lunch in the county town hall when Queen Mary was the guest of honour. The Queen, wearing strands of pearls and a feathered hat, arrived looking like the usual paragon of stiff good form.

Yet the ladies of the WI were scandalised when, as soon as lunch was served, Queen Mary was seen to kick off her shoes. Hampshire WI meetings never rang so loudly to the National Anthem after that.

It has been a long struggle for barefoot rights, with many stubbed toes along the way. Nowadays, a body called the Society for Barefoot Living is leading the march. Founded in 1994 "to promote barefoot acceptance worldwide", the society still has a way to go to fulfil its global mission - its membership in England stands at 52 so far.

However, it does a great service in listing places where bare feet are welcomed, and recommends the Sandringham House Hotel in Southsea and Glastonbury Assembly Rooms. Venues that demand patrons be fully shod are witheringly condemned as "shoddist".

The true home of the knowing look and the quiet, yet lethal, "tut" of disapproval has always been the village shop. But, here, attitudes are definitely changing. These days, none of them would dare sniff at bare feet - "smelly or otherwise" - promises Peter Jones, of the Rural Shops Alliance, which has 5,000 members.

Meanwhile, at the top of the social scale, it is plainly no longer true that you can tell a gentleman by the quality of his shoes. The chances are that he won't be wearing any, at least if Lady Celestria Noel is to be believed.

A countrywoman and author of Debrett's Guide to the Season, she is unequivocal: "I think bare feet are now very socially acceptable. The reason is simple. We Brits are getting better at washing."

Indeed, she is even alarmed by signs that bare feet may be becoming too popular. "I'm always coming across vaguely New Age people who tell you to take off your shoes at the door when you arrive for dinner.

"It is very annoying, especially if you are not very tall and you have the proportions of your outfit carefully sorted. You end up with your trousers or skirt swathed around your ankles."

This summer, the message is loud and clear. Toes are no longer taboo. Down with "shoddism".