SIZE
There is hardly anything concerning which vain people are so sensitive as their feet. To have large feet is considered one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall a woman. Mathematically stated, the length of a woman’s skirts is directly proportional to the size of her feet; and women with large feet are always shocked at the frivolity of those who have neat ankles and coquettishly allow them to be seen on occasion; nor do they see any beauty in Sir John Suckling’s lines—
“Her feet beneath her petticoat
Like little mice stole in and out,
As if they feared the light.”
Nor are men, as a rule, sufficiently free from pedal vanity to pose as satirists. Byron found a mark of aristocracy in small feet, and he was rendered almost as miserable by the morbid consciousness of his own defects as Mme. de Staël (who had very ugly feet, yet once ventured to assume the rôle, in private theatricals, of a statue) was offended by Talleyrand’s witticism, that he recognised her by the pied de Staël.
There is a ben trovato, if not true, story of a clever wife who objected to her husband’s habit of spending his evenings away from home, and who reformed him by utilising his vanity. By insisting that his boots were too large, she repeatedly induced him to buy smaller ones, which finally tortured him so much that he was only too glad to stay at home and wear his slippers.