The ones I remember might have been black kidskin. The house I associate with those shoes is the one we lost after the stock market crash, when I would have been three years old.
I must have graduated to something more modern by the time I was five, because we were "doubling-up" with relatives that year, and I remember exactly the sunny day – and the spot on a Buffalo sidewalk -- and the exact moment -- when my cousin Betty taught me to tie my shoelaces.
But while we’re at it, gang, how many of you can identify this artifact?
Yep, it’s a button hook. When I was a girl it was sometimes mentioned in low-voiced discussions of the dangers of self-induced abortions.
And why am I surprised to find that in the course of looking for this illustration, I ran into this? –