Sole

Sole (pronounced sohl)

(1) Being the only one; only.

(2) Being the only one of the kind; unique; unsurpassed; matchless.

(3) Belonging or pertaining to one individual or group to the exclusion of all others; exclusive.

(4) In law, un-married (archaic).

(5) The bottom or under-surface of the foot.

(6) The corresponding under part of a shoe, boot, or the like, or this part exclusive of the heel.

(7) The bottom, under surface, or lower part of anything.

(8) In carpentry, the underside of a plane.

(9) In golf, the part of the head of the club that touches the ground.

(10) A European flatfish, Solea solea.

(11) Any other flatfish of the families Soleidae and Cynoglossidae, having a hook-like snout.

1275-1325:  From the Old French soul & sol (only, alone, just), from the Vlugar Latin sola from the Late Latin sōlus (alone, only, single, sole; forsaken; extraordinary), replacing Middle English soule.  The source was the Classical Latin solea (sandal, bottom of a shoe; a flatfish), derivative of solum (base, bottom, ground, foundation, lowest point of a thing (hence “sole of the foot”)).  The Latin root begat similar words in many European languages: the Spanish suela, the Italian soglia and the Portuguese solha although, technically, the bottom of the foot is the planta, corresponding to the palm of the hand.  The Latin sōlus is of unknown origin but may be related to the primitive Indo-European reflexive root swo- from which English later gained "so".

A fossil flatfish.

The various common European flatfishes (of the ray-finned demersal order Pleuronectiformes) became known as sole in the mid-thirteenth century, an adoption of French use which followed the Latin which named the solea after the sandal because of the resemblance in shape to a flat shoe.  In English, the meaning "bottom of a shoe or boot" is from the late fourteenth century, and the cobbler’s phrase “to heal and sole a boot (or shoe)” to describe a repair or replacement is a verb form from the 1560s.  Another linguistic innovation of boot-makers was the noun insole (an inner lining of a shoe or boot affixed inside to the bottom and following exactly the shape) which appeared in 1838; it soon became known as the inner sole or inner-sole.

The use in both Church and common law to mean "single, alone, having no husband or wife” was an appropriation of form reflecting the normal, everyday meaning of the sole (one and only, singular, unique) and was first used in that context in the late fourteenth century and, in some technical uses, appeared still as late as the early nineteenth.  The adjective solely began to appear in the late fifteenth century.  A particular adjectival adoption was the direct borrowing from Latin of solus, used in the theatre for stage directions by 1590s.  It’s a masculine (the feminine is sola) but, as part of an industry-specific jargon, solus was used for both.  In certain circles, including poets and lawyers, use of the word persisted in old Latin phrases such as solus cum sola (alone with an unchaperoned woman) and solus cum solo (all on one's own” (which translates literally as "alone with alone")).

Studies of the soles of the Lindsay Lohan’s feet in three aspects.

Sole and its antecedents proved a a productive source in English, the soleus (muscle of the calf of the leg) a creation in the 1670s in the Modern Latin used in medicine and, like the fish, inspired by the similarity to the Roman shoe.  The adjective solitary (alone, living alone) was a mid-fourteenth century formation from the Old French solitaire, from the Latin solitarius (alone, lonely, isolated) from solitas (loneliness, solitude) from solus (alone).  The meaning "single, sole, only" is from 1742 and the related forms are a solitarily & solitariness.   It was a noun as early as the late 1300s but the most inventive adaptation was probably the 1690s prison slang in which it described the punishment of solitary confinement; in 1854 the phrase became an official part of the administration of jails.

Martin Luther aged 43 (1529) by Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472-1653).

As a Reformation coinage, solus also provided theology with the 1590s solifidian (one who believes in salvation by faith alone), a tenet of Protestant Christianity based on the translation by the dissident, one-time Augustinian monk Martin Luther (1483-1546) of Romans 3:28, the construct being solus (alone) + fides (faith) from the primitive Indo-European root bheidh- (to trust, confide, persuade).  It must have been a success because solifidian was used as an adjective early in the new century; the related form is solifidianism.  Philosophy gained solipsism, the theory that self is the only object of real knowledge or the only thing that is real and that all else must be denied.

The solo as a “piece of music for one voice or instrument” dates from the 1690s and was in English a commonly used adjective as early as 1712, although the early uses had nothing to do with music, instead referring to activities undertaken alone or unassisted.  The verb is first attested 1858 in the musical sense, 1886 in a non-musical sense and was adopted in the business of pilot training to describe a pupil’s first flight without an instructor in the cockpit.  Among those who attend rock concerts, there seems to be one faction which regards the drum solo as a highlight and one for which it's a bore to be endured.

A desolate emo.

Desolate, the emo’s standard alliterative companion to devastated, in the mid-1300s meant “a person disconsolate, miserable, overwhelmed with grief, deprived of comfort", extended later in the century to “persons without companions, solitary, lonely".  If the word didn’t exist, emos would have invented it.  By the early fifteenth century, it became applied to the natural environment to describe places, "uninhabited, abandoned" from the Latin desolatus, past participle of desolare (leave alone, desert), the construct being de- (completely) + solare (make lonely).  It’s not clear when it came also to be used as a criticism of urban, built environments (typically industrial or suburban) but it was well-established early in the twentieth century.  Desolation (sorrow, grief, personal affliction), circa 1400 meant the "action of laying waste, destruction or expulsion of inhabitants" is from the twelfth century Old French desolacion (desolation, devastation, hopelessness, despair) and directly from the Church Latin desolationem (nominative desolatio), a noun of action from the past-participle stem of desolare (leave alone, desert).  The sense of a "condition of being ruined or wasted, destruction" is from the early 1400 and the sense of "a desolated place, a devastated or lifeless region" is from 1610s.  Also emo-themed was the adjective sullen, a 1570s alteration of the Middle English soleyn (unique, singular) from the Anglo-French solein, formed on the pattern of the Old French solain (lonely), from the Latin solus.  The emo-inspired sense shift in Middle English from "solitary" to "morose" occurred in the late fourteenth century.  Solitude is from the mid-fourteenth century, from the Old French solitude (loneliness) and directly from the Latin solitudinem (nominative solitudo) (loneliness, being alone; lonely place, desert, wilderness) from solus but didn’t become common use in English until the seventeenth century.  The solitudinarian (a recluse, unsocial person) is recorded from 1690s and it’s perhaps surprising such a modern-sounding word isn’t today more popular.

Saint Augustine of Hippo (circa 1510) by Berto di Giovanni (d 1529).

The noun soliloquy is from the 1610s, from the Late Latin soliloquium (a talking to oneself", the construct being solus + loqui (to speak) from the primitive Indo-European root tolkw- (to speak).  Earlier, it appeared in a translation of the Latin Soliloquiorum libri duo a treatise by Saint Augustine (354-430), who is said to have coined the word, on analogy of Greek monologia.  The related form is soliloquent.

Plantar

Plantar (pronounced plan-ter)

In anatomy and zoology, of or relating to the sole of the foot.

1706: From the Latin plantāris (pertaining to the sole of the foot), from planta (sole of the foot) from a nasalized form of the primitive Indo-European root pletə- or plat- (to spread) an extension of the root pele- (flat; to spread).  Related were the Sanskrit prathati (spreads out), the Hittite palhi (broad), the Ancient Greek platys (broad, flat), the Lithuanian platus (broad), the German Fladen (flat cake), the Old Norse flatr (flat), the Old English flet (floor, dwelling) and the Old Irish lethan (broad).  The Latin planta may be analysed as plant +‎ -ar.  The –ar suffix was from Latin -āris (of, pertaining to) and was appended to nouns to create adjectives.  The -aris suffix was a form of -ālis with dissimilation of -l- to -r- after roots containing an l (the alternative forms were -ālis, -ēlis, -īlis & -ūlis); it was used to form adjectives, usually from noun, indicating a relationship or a "pertaining to".  The exact origin of the Latin planta (which in addition to meaning (1) “sole of the foot” could be used in the sense of (2) any vegetable production that serves to propagate the species; a sprout, shoot, twig, sprig, sucker, graft, scion, slip, cutting or (3) a young tree, a shrub that may be transplanted; a set) is uncertain.  It was from either (1) the Proto-Italic plāntā, from the primitive Indo-European pléh-n̥t-eh, from pleh- (flat) or (2) the Proto-Italic plānktā, from the primitive Indo-European pl̥hnk or gteh, from plehk- & plehg- (to strike, fast).  In anatomy, the derived terms include plantar fascia (the thick connective tissue which supports the arch of the foot) and plantar fasciitis (a painful inflammation of the plantar fascia.  The term plantar wart (apparently sometimes initially misunderstood by patients as “planter’s wart”) describes a wart which occurs on the sole of the foot or the toes.  The medical Latin is verruca plantaris.  Plantar is an adjective.

Plantar flexion and dorsiflextion

Lindsay Lohan, right foot plantar flexing, left foot tucked under right thigh.

Plantar flexion refers to the movement of the foot when it is bent at the ankle away from the body, accomplished by flexing muscles in the calf, ankle, and foot.  In normal range of human activity, the range of motion is usually between 20-50^o, a commons example being depressing a car’s accelerator (throttle) pedal. Or even the mere act of walking.  The word “flexion” is used by anatomists and others to describe the movement of many body parts.  The notion of flexing at the knee or elbow is well understood in everyday life and technically, flexion is the decreased angle at a joint between two or more bones.  In the common act of bending the elbow from a straightened position, the angle decreases between the humerus and the radius and ulna of the forearm.  Plantar flexion is defined usually as the decreased angle between the plantar side of the foot and the back of the tibia at the tibiotalar joint (better known as the ankle) and can be visualized as the bending of the sole of the foot down where the toes are moving down and away from the body.  Done deliberately in exaggerated form it can feel unnatural but having one’s toes point downwards is something inherent to human movement, the activities (as well as using a car’s throttle pedal) including bending the foot during walking (propelling the mass of the body forward as it pushes off the ground) and standing on one’s tip toes which reaching for something in a high place.

Lindsay Lohan, dorsiflexion to the left, plantar flexing to the right.

The companion movement is dorsiflexation, an upward bending which, although applied most often to the foot, other body parts such as hands or digits (fingers) can be said to dorsiflex.  Dating from the early nineteenth century, dorsiflexion was a creation which appeared first in the literature of the early-modern science of anatomy.  The construct was dorsi (from the Middle English dorsal or dorsale from the Medieval Latin dorsālis (of or relating to the back)) + flex (from the Latin flexiō (genitive flexiōnis), from flectō (I bend, curve), from the Proto-Italic flektō, of uncertain origin and unknown in other Indo-European cognates) + -ion (the Latin suffix denoting action or condition).  The –ion suffic was from the Middle English -ioun, from the Old French -ion, from the Latin -iō (genitive -iōnis).  It was appended to a perfect passive participle to form a noun of action or process, or the result of an action or process.  Dorsiflexion is also a movement associated with the multiple joints.  The definition is of an action in which induces a decreased angle between the dorsal side of the body part and the bone or bones that are proximal to the body.  When one’s wrist is bent and the back of the hand is moving towards the body, that is an act of dorsiflexion and when the toes are pointed up or raised backward toward the body, this is also dorsiflexion so, using the feet as an illustrative example, plantar flexion and dorsiflextion can be understood as opposite movements at the ankle joint (both obviously being associated with flexion). That means the essence of the difference is the location of the foot doing the bending away from the ankle joint: If the toes rise as the ankle bends, it’s dorsiflexion while if the toes tend downwards, it’s a plantar flex.

Lindsay Lohan, plantar flexing to the left, dorsiflexion to the right.

Although the term (plantar flex) and word (dorsiflex) refer to variations of the same movement, the practice has always been to use a compound form only for the latter although the mechanics of the etymology is the same in that plantar flex references the sole of the foot and dorsiflex the back.  Perhaps counter-intuitively, the upper surface of a foot (the dorsal surface) is, to an anatomist, the back, a convention of use more familiar when used as the “back of the hand”.  Anatomists recommend imaging the dorsal fin of the shark as a memory trick, something associated with the “back side of an animal”. Consider a dorsal fin on a shark which is located on the back side of the shark. If the foot was a four-legged animal, the dorsal side would be the top of the foot. Likewise, if the hand was held out straight, the back side of the hand is called the dorsal side.  Interestingly, by convention, despite the obvious etymological connections, dorsiflex is the universal form while plantarflex, although a correct alternative spelling, is rarely seen outside of technical literature.

Slap

Slap (pronounced slap)

(1) A sharp blow or smack, especially with the open hand or with something flat; a sound made by or as if by such a blow or smack.

(2) By analogy, a sharply worded or sarcastic rebuke or comment.

(3) To put or place something promptly and sometimes haphazardly (often followed by on; if haphazard, often described as slapdash).

(4) As slap on the wrist, relatively mild criticism or censure, often used critically when more onerous punishments are available.

(5) A gap or opening, as in a fence, wall, cloud bank, or line of troops; a mountain pass; a wound or gash (now rare).

(6) As slap-sole, an additional sole affixed between the heel and sole of a high-heeled shoe. 

(7) In slang, make up (based on the notion "that which is slapped on").

(8) In slang, a poster (based on the notion "slapped onto the wall").  

Origin uncertain: It’s been linked to the (1325–1375) Middle English slop from the Middle Dutch or Middle Low German (cognate with German Schlupf (hiding place)) though with little support.  The seventeenth century Middle English slappen is of uncertain origin and probably imitative, drawing from the Low German Slapp & Slappe (slap) from which Modern German gained Schlappe (defeat).  Most suggest the verb use (in the sense of “strike with an open hand”) began in the late fifteenth century, became an adverb in the 1670s, and picked up the meanings “suddenly” or “directly” in 1829.  The noun form dates from the mid fifteenth century, again apparently of imitative origin, similar to the various German forms slappe & Schlappe.  The figurative meaning "insult, reprimand" is attested from 1736; the now probably obsolete “slap-happy” (1936) originally meant "punch-drunk and “slap on the wrist” meaning "very mild punishment" dates from 1914.  The modern acronym SLAPP is unrelated.  Slap is a noun, verb & adverb, slapping is a noun, slapper is a noun, verb & adjective, slapped is a verb and slappy is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is slaps.

Although the reaction would have been very different had the roles of the protagonist & antagonist been reversed, the clip of Emmanuel Macron (b 1977; President of France since 2017) receiving a “bit of a slap” from his wife (Brigitte Marie-Claude Macron (née Trogneux, later Auzière, b 1953)) was received with much amusement and more interest that most photo-opportunities of heads of state walking down stairs.  Distributed in May 2026, the footage circulated by AP (Associated Press) was shot when Le Président’s aircraft was on the tarmac after landing at Hanoi’s Noi Bai International Airport, Vietnam.  After the “gentle slap”, Mr Macron appeared startled but recovered quickly upon realizing a camera lens was pointed through the open door, managing a smile and wave before moving rapidly out of sight.  The “incident” was first denied by the Elysée Palace until the footage was seen, at which point the spin changed to a claim it was just a bit of playfulness between husband and wife.  Shortly afterwards, the couple walked down the stairs; they did not hold hands.

Emmanuel & Brigitte Macron, Noi Bai International Airport, Hanoi, Vietnam, May 2025.

The administration’s hope had been a visit by a representative of the former colonial oppressor would focus on France’s “Pacific outreach” but it was madame Macron’s outreach that grabbed the headlines.  A quarter-century older than her husband, (something that must baffle Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) who is believed never to have read Stephen Vizinczey’s (1933–2021) In Praise of Older Women (1965)), she was one of his school teachers when he was a 15 year old classmate of her daughter and she was 39.  According to “official sources”, their “relationship” began when he was around 19; the couple married in 2007.  The explanation from the Elysée was noted by social media on which suggestions of the consequences for Mr Macron included him (1) having to write out 100 times: “Je ne discuterai pas avec le professeur” (I will not argue with the teacher), (2) being sent to bed straight after dinner and (3) not being allowed to watch cartoons on Saturday morning.  It was further suggested a future transgression would result in a caning (and not the “playful spanking” type he enjoys).

Slap soles

Seventeenth century women's slap-soled shoes.

Although they became high (and occasionally extreme) fashion items, slap soles began as a purely functional addition to men’s boots.  In the seventeenth century, men of a certain class, upon dismounting their horses, would slip a flat-soled mule over their riding boots to stop their heels sinking into the ground.  Presumably seeing a gap in the market, cobblers began to attach an additional sole, extending from tip to heel but not actually attached to the heel, a design which when walking, produced a clacking, slapping sound.  The apparently strange design existed so that riding boots would still fit securely in the stirrups and not interfere with the spurs.

Men in slap-soled boots.  Portrait of Lord John Stuart and [his brother] Lord Bernard Stuart (circa 1638), oil on canvas by Sir Anthony van Dyck (1599–1641).

History doesn’t record whether women were attracted to the style or just the idea of being able to wear their newly fashionable high-heels without also sinking into the soil but the concept was soon extended to women’s shoes.  However, when applied to women’s shoes, although the slap-sole name stuck, there was no slapping sound when walking because the sole was this time anchored at the heel as well.  It’s essentially the same concept used on a tank or bulldozer, a self-laying track which renders a more stable surface on which to move.  So bizarre was the appearance of these shoes that they have long been a collectable and the delicate, intricate detailing on many does suggest many of them must have been created purely as pieces of high-fashion.  Doubtless there were some women of the horsey set who used the genuine slapping-soles as did the men but on the (admittedly hardly representative) basis of the surviving depictions, more seem to have worn them far from muddy stable yards.

Slaps: Literal and figurative.

Usage guide for “slap”:  An example of a literal “slap” is being “slapped in the face” by the mother of the children one is attempting to “rescue from traffickers” on the streets of Moscow.  A figurative “slap” is being “slapped with a parking fine” for leaving one’s Cadillac Escalade parked next to a fire hydrant.  Overlap is possible because a parking ticket is in some places still a physical slip of paper or cardboard so one literally could be “slapped with a parking ticket”.  Instances of such presumably are rare but to avoid ambiguity the correct use is “slapped with a parking fine” (figurative) or “slapped with a parking ticket” (a literal assault & battery in cases where the ticket is used as a weapon).

Chopine

Chopine (pronounced choh-peen or chop-in)

(1) A shoe having a thick sole, usually of cork, suggesting a short stilt, worn especially by women in Europe in the sixteenth & seventeenth centuries and said to have been introduced from the Ottoman Empire.

(2) A bottle of wine (usually Bordeaux) containing 250 ml, 1/3 of the volume of a standard bottle.

1570–1580: From the Middle French chapin, from the Old Spanish chapín (type of high shoe or clog, raised by means of a cork sole), from chapa (plate of metal), the construct being chap(a) (from the Middle French chape) + -in (the adjectival suffix).  The original, the Old Spanish chapín, was probably imitative of the sound made by the shoe when walking.  Dictionaries note a number of cognates of chopine including choppins & chapiney but, as might be imagined, it must have been a word in limited use (by cobblers, fashionistas etc) because there are no entries for the word (or similar forms such as cioppino or choppino) in English / Italian dictionaries of the late sixteenth or early seventeenth centuries; perhaps it was at the time: "The shoe that dare not speak its name".  It's possible the equivalent in Renaissance Italian was zoccolo (familiar as the English plural "clogs") which may come from the Italian zocco (stump or block of wood) but adding to the murkiness, in one English / Italian dictionary, the word chopinos appears in the definition of the plural zoccoli.  Chopine is a noun; the noun plural is chopines.

Portrait de Chopin en Dante (drawing of Chopin as Dante, 1849), graphite pencil on paper by Eugène Delacroix (1798–1863), Eugène Delacroix National Museum, the Louvre, Paris.  Inscribed Cher Chopin (Dear Chopin), the drawing is believed to have been sketched on 31 October, 1849, upon the artist learning of the composer's death some two weeks earlier.  It remained in Delacroix's bedroom until his death.

Unfortunately, chopiner is not an English noun meaning “one who makes or wears chopines” but a French verb meaning “to drink to excess” while the English adjective Chopinian carries the sense “of or pertaining to the Polish composer & virtuoso pianist Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849)”.  A macabre footnote in Chopin's story is that Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland during World War II), whose rule in Nazi-occupied Poland was an appalling and bloody tale of corruption and depravity, when on trial for war crimes and crimes against humanity, in all seriousness (as an experienced trial lawyer) offered in mitigation for his conduct the fact he'd established in Kraków a Chopin Museum, something he noted: “the Poles had never managed to do”.  The belated attempt at redemption came apparently at the instigation of Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda 1933-1945) who, although as evil as any of the Nazis, was at least clear-headed enough to understand carrots were in occupied territories at least as useful as sticks.

Defendants in the dock at the First Nuremberg Trial (Frank circled).

Acting under instruction from Berlin, Frank’s regime actively had attempted to eradicate Polish culture and while his methods were never subtle, the worst excesses included mass-murder of “the intelligentsia” (writers, artists, journalists, academics, priests etc) but the governor-general, bizarrely, had a personal obsession with Chopin, based on a genuine fondness for the music and many had been drawn to what been described as its “quasi-improvised” quality; the French composer Georges Bizet (1838–1875) spoke of Chopin’s work as “…charming, strange, unique, inimitable”.  Frank too clearly was charmed but understood the long dead composer would need to be “Germanized” to be acceptable in the Third Reich (1933-1945), taking measures such as spelling his name in a Germanic-sounding “Schopping” and banning performances of his compositions for Polish audiences.  The centrepiece of this improbable Nazi attempt at cult-creation was what Frank called the “temporary” Chopin Museum in his official headquarters at Wawel Castle in Kraków, a permanent structure to be erected once Germany had won the war.  In typical Nazi style, Frank dispatched his (by then well-experienced) agents to loot occupied Europe for Chopin artifacts, manuscripts, letters, death masks and memorabilia, managing to acquire (ie steal) even an original Pleyel grand piano that had belonged to the composer.  Despite that interest, in May 1940 he had made only a token attempt to prevent the destruction of the famous bronze Chopin Monument in Warsaw's Łazienki Park, the 16-ton statue cut into pieces and melted down for the benefit of the German war machine.

The Nuremberg Trial, 1946 (1946), oil on canvas by Dame Laura Knight RA (1877-1970), IWM (Imperial War Museum), London.

Dame Laura Knight’s large canvas The Nuremberg Trial, 1946, now hangs in the Imperial War Museum in London and is one of the most re-produced images from the trial.  An unusual blend of two aspects of realism achieved by a juxtaposition of defendants in the dock and a devastated Nuremberg cityscape (including corpses), the artist did change a few details to suit her didactic purposes, Hans Frank seated not in his usual place but at the painting’s bottom-right, presumably better to show the wrists damaged by a failed suicide attempt.  In court, Frank wore gloves to conceal the effect but these Dame Laura choose to remove.  Curiously for such an accomplished artist, some of the likenesses achieved of those in the dock are not impressive but it remains one of the trial’s most memorable images, despite at the time being received by the critical establishment without enthusiasm.

Sketch of Frank in the dock by New Zealand-born political cartoonist David Low (1891-1963).

For the museum’s opening ceremony, Frank personally selected Ludmilla Berkwic (1910–2005), a fine Polish concert pianist and piano teacher who, on Chopin’s Pleyel, preformed several pieces for an audience of high-ranking Nazis, the recital very well-received.  Unfortunately, Frank’s staff hadn’t dug too deep and what they failed to detect was that Ms Berkwic had since the start of the war being living under false papers because her father's family was Jewish.  That might have gone undetected were it not for Dr Goebbels having arranged for the performance to be filmed and, in an attempt to show how benign was Nazi rule in Poland, distributed throughout Europe on propaganda newsreels.  By 1943 he probably realized that might be a futile project but his energy for the Sisyphean task never waned.  However, an unexpected consequence of the publicity was it prompted one of Ms Berkwic’s jealous rivals to denounce her for having Jewish heritage.  That forced her and her mother to obtain from the Polish Underground new sets of forged papers and, strange as it sounds, they fled to Germany where they could be absorbed into the millions of captive Polish workers.  Hiding, as it were, “in plain sight”, she survived the war working in a munitions factory and in 1947 emigrated to the US, setting in New York.  Frank’s gesture did not make much impression on the judges of the IMT (International Military Tribunal) sitting for the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946): They convicted him on counts three (war crimes) and four (crimes against humanity) and handed down a sentence of death by hanging.  As a trained lawyer, Frank was at least a realist, the prison psychologist recording that when asked his reaction to the verdict, Frank had smiled when answering: “I deserved it and I expected it.”  Unlike the most recalcitrant of the defendants, he seemed aware too of the magnitude of the crimes being tried, admitting: “A thousand years will pass and still this guilt of Germany will not have been erased.”  Some of what Frank stole for “his” Chopin Museum was recovered and today, the most comprehensive collection of the composer's memorabilia is housed in the official Fryderyk Chopin Museum in Warsaw, established in 1954 and operated by the Fryderyk Chopin Institute.

The ultimate platform shoe

How they worked.  Chopines were a kind of wonder bra for the feet.

Chopines began as a purely functional device; a means of raising women’s shoes and the hems of their dresses above the dirt and filth in which they were often compelled to walk; in the age of horse-drawn transport, streets sometimes were "rivers of blood, mud and horseshit".  It's said the chopines were brought to Europe by traders from the Ottoman Empire where they'd been worn in bath houses by concubines, courtesans and others, the speculation being they were originally a modestly proportioned device designed as a health measure, a means of protecting the feet from infection, bath houses being warm, dark and moist, the perfect incubation environment for bacteria.  As sometimes happens, they became a status symbol with prestige determined by their elevation, the tallest extant examples reaching 20 inches (508 mm) although some historians claim they were built as much as ten inches (254 mm) higher.  Students of the art suspect that if true, such things may have been constructed for shop-window displays rather than being worn because at that height they're really "stilts".  Beyond a certain height, practicality (ie stability) would certainly have become marginal but there's evidence highly stylized examples were worn outside the bath house on ceremonial occasions, the wearer presumably "mostly static".  Chopines were most popular in Spain and Italy in the late sixteenth century and when they spread to England, they were sometimes referred to as "the Venice" because of the perception that was their city of origin, a notion that seems to have arisen because of their mention in widely-read travel journals of the age; Venice was a popular destination for such travellers.  Their impracticality must have made them a niche item because they never became part of any defined English costume or style of dress but whether alpha-males objected to women suddenly appearing taller is lost to history.

Variations on a theme of chopine.

As shoes, they had a short life because their sheer size dictated they be made from lightweight materials like cork and wood although some surviving examples do have a metal framework.  The style, in a less extreme form, was briefly revived with the cork-soled platform soles of the 1970s which had the effect of creating a short-lived investment bubble in the Portuguese cork industry although, as economic theory would predict, as the craze faded a Portuguese "cork glut" saw prices collapse.  The absurdity of the style attracted the attention of writers:

"It is ridiculous to see how these ladies crawl in and out of their gondolas, by reason of their choppines [clogs]; and what dwarfs they appear when taken down from their wooden scaffolds; of these I saw nearly thirty together, stalking half as high again as the rest of the world."  (John Evelyn, diary entry, June 1645)

"By'r lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last by the altitude of a chopine." (Hamlet, act 2 scene 2, William Shakespeare, 1602)

"He creaked to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the altitude of a chopine... "(Ulysses, James Joyce, 1922).

Continuing the chopine tradition but with rather less elevation: Lindsay Lohan in Saint Laurent Billy leopard-print platform boots, New York, March 2019.

Shoes have not since ascended to the heights of the chopines but the attractions of elevation have endured.  The lovely elegance of a five-inch stiletto heel of course remains incomparable but while as a piece of design they’re there to be admired, at a certain point a stiletto becomes unstable.  As a piece of math, heel stability can be reduced to about as complex a problem in mechanics as one cares to make it, the significant variables being the heel height, heel-tip area, shoe geometry, the wearer’s centre of mass, foot position, ground reaction force, and the stiffness of the shoe & ankle as an encapsulated system.  So, the “tipping / stability problem” can be conceptualized (even if individual human variations make it difficult to produce a simple model) and the basic idea is that when standing, ground exerts a “vertical ground-reaction force” through the foot; if the shoe is stable, resultant force falls within the “support polygon” (essentially the area defined by the heel and forefoot contact points).  As a general principle, a shoe’s sole being broad and long (thereby distributing forces over a large contact area), what is critical is the heel, a structure with a much smaller contact area.  Essentially, the remains stable as long as pressure doesn't move beyond the available support area.

Saint Laurent Billy leopard-print platform boots from the Pre-Fall 2018 collection.  The large contact area of the kitten heel and height of the sole means stability is achieved but the style does demand some practice because one's "walking technique would need slightly to be adjusted.  

However, the slenderness of the stiletto operates as a multiplier effect, the heel height changes the geometry of the entire foot, not merely the size of the heel.  As the heel’s height increases, the foot shifts into plantar flexion causing a movement of the upper body, meaning the centre of mass relative to the heel changes.  For any given individual, with enough data points quantified, it would be possible to produce an equation that would find a “point of optimal stability” before increasing a heel's height induces “tipping”.  Beyond the “tipping point”, a shoe ceases to be neutrally stable and achieving a static equilibrium isn't possible without muscular compensation or movement.  That can be modelled in software but the practical complication is a human is not a rigid object standing atop an always flat, unmoving surface, ankle, foot and leg continually make corrections, often so minute and instinctive they’re imperceptible to the owner of those body parts.  Thus, a stiletto can statically be geometrically stable yet dynamically unstable.  That’s why heel-tip diameter is so critical in achieving stability and to illustrate that, imagine an example demonstrating not all four-inch (100 mm) stilettos have the same intrinsic stability.  Consider two otherwise identical 100 mm stilettos, one with an 8-mm heel tip, one with 20-mm, the latter allowing a greater movement of the centre of pressure before the ground-reaction force reaches the edge of the heel.  Math nerds can no doubt run the numbers and what they’d find is the intriguing result that doubling the heel height roughly halves the angular tolerance, while doubling heel-tip radius roughly doubles it.  Women used to stilettos of course don’t need an equation to tell them a shoe with an extremely narrow, high heel has a very small stability envelope; the "heelprint" is a vital part of the "footprint".

Lindsay Lohan in Christian Louboutin Madame Butterfly black bow platform booties with six-inch (150 mm) stiletto heel.  What the elevated sole does is change the foot's angle, meaning a similar stability is attained as would be achieved with a 100 heel used in conjunction with a conventional sole.

Hence the frequent use of thicker soles and while opinion can be divided on the look, the elevated platform mechanically is interesting because it allows the heel to be higher while keeping the foot at a less extreme angle; it’s a fudge and not always admired by those for whom the acute angle of the wearer’s foot is one of the most alluring aspects of the stiletto’s aesthetic but if done well, it can be pleasing; it’s not the classic look but needs to be judged on its own terms.  An example of the math is one of differentiation: A 120-mm heel with a 30-mm platform doesn't behave like a 120-mm heel on a flat platform; because of the additional height in the sole, the effective pitch (and thus stability) will be something like a shoe with a 90-mm heel and conventional sole.  Engineers call this the TBA (true biomechanical angle) and in the practical mechanics of the human foot it's of significance because the foot safely can tolerate only a certain maximum angle of incline angle before the ankle undergoes structural plantarflexion failure (where the foot is extended so straight the ankle loses all lateral muscle control).  All this was once a rarely explored exercise in equation-making because shoe designers could tell by looking at design whether it would be practical to wear; they didn’t need the math.  Engineers building humanoid robots did however need to do the sums even though they could, if need be, emulate millions of years of evolution and make feet and ankles more accommodating.  As the recent Humanoid Robot Olympics (August 2026) in Beijing demonstrated, the billions of dollars invested under the watchful eye of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) must have resulted in many correct calculations because what was achieved was impressive (including breaking the world record for the men's 100 metre sprint).  While the CCP surely is interested more in robots for factories and the military than “making a better stiletto”, it’s not impossible a Chinese scientist might gain a Ig Nobel Prize by publishing a by-product of humanoid robot research: the equation for the “perfectly stable stiletto”, designers able to “plug-in” their angles and dimensions meaning the “stability threshold” ceases to be theoretical and becomes just another metric.

Flamingo's Exotic Dancer's boots in baby pink are an example of what can be done if one can cast adrift what's possible from the moorings of what's practical.  Available in calf (left), ankle (centre) and thigh (right) length in a variety of heel and sole heights, there's both a commonality of design elements and interchangeability of components, meaning a high degree of production-line rationalization, making the range economic to produce.  It should be noted "exotic dancer" is a vocational euphemism so the target market is limited but there may be some demand from non-professionals who can see the potential for "home use".

Style by necessity, Paris circa 1942: The chopine's methods of construction and use of materials staged a partial comeback in occupied France (1940-1944).  The sculptured heel both lent style and reduced weight.

Wartime shortages of leather forced French cobblers to turn to more readily available materials such as wood or cork when repairing or replacing heels and soles and the improvisation quickly became characteristic of French footwear during the Nazi Occupation.  Of course, being French, mere functionalism wasn’t enough and identifiable styles emerged, creating a unique “fashion language”; in other words, a fine example of wartime necessity becoming fashion.  Supplies of leather for civilian consumer goods greatly were restricted in many countries during wartime but in places subject to Nazi occupation the deprivations were most severe with the German war machine absorbing the bulk of what was available.  Consequently, French shoemakers increasingly substituted wood, cork, textile, straw and whatever artificial materials could be adapted or re-cycled with wooden clogs becoming a common sight.

French open-toed pumps, circa 1944, Bata Shoe Museum, Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

Constructed on a wooden sole & heel with a raffia upper, the shoe is embellished with a polka-dot ribbon, the only leather component two small cuts for the contact areas of the sole and heel, covered with re-cycled material.  Although a product of necessity, the raffia/word combo does sometimes appear still in modern catalogues and, of course, polka-dots never really go out of style.  So, material supply was a problem but if anything that may have encouraged designers to explore the possibilities offered by materials not previously exploited.  Rather than simply forming blocks of wood or cork into a simple wedge that would have “done the job”, the photographic record makes clear women were wearing raised soles (some quite substantial platforms) and sculptural heels, some as extravagant as was possible within the limitations imposed and augmenting this, ribbons provided considerable scope for decorative variation; in a quirk of the wartime economy, ribbons were for some time among the few materials not subject to rationing.  Cobblers proved imaginative and French commerce rose to the occasion, shoe shops developing a fashion vocabulary: semelles compensées (platform/wedge soles) and semelles articulées (articulated soles) among the coinings.

Semelles articulées, Paris, circa 1942.  The look was soon in vogue.

The articulated creations were ingenious attempts to make wooden soles flexible enough for walking and while it was not possible wholly to emulate the behavior of leather, there were partial solutions, one using thin wooden strips and in 1941 there was the more intricate Smelflex in which the articulation interacted with laminated or hinged sections of wood; with dark irony, the occupying authorities noted the system was derived from a German patent.  In an example of the way in which populations adapt to circumstances, the look became a recognised fashion phenomenon of Occupation-era France and designers made no attempt to disguise their creations as leather, the wooden soles and heels presented explicitly as a blend of “ingenuity and Parisian elegance.”  In an amusing footnote, the shortage of leather and metal did answer the many pre-war complaints about the trend for extremely high, thin talons-échasses (stilt heels) that much pleased the men as they gazed at their drawing boards in Parisian fashion houses but were far from comfortable to wear for much beyond a photo-shoot for a glossy magazine.

Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999, left) with Xi Jinping (b 1953; General Secretary of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) and paramount leader of the PRC (People's Republic of China) since 2012, right) (far left), Carla Bruni-Sarközy de Nagy-Bocsa (b 1967, left) and her husband Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955; President of France 2007-2012, right) (centre left), Marco Rubio (b 1971; US secretary of state since 2025) (centre right) and how it's done (far right).

In politics, the chopine lives on in the form of "elevator shoes" that can "add" as much a four inches (100 mm) to an individual's height through the mechanism of the "built-up" internal heel.  Politicians are known to wear them including Mr Putin, Mr Sarközy and Mr Rubio, indeed the latter's use of the shoes was exploited by Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) who coined "little Marco" as his opponent's moniker during the 2016 Republican presidential debates although that use is in abeyance while they maintain their at least temporary friendship.  As the elevation increases it's obviously necessary also to add to the upper so (1) the trick is concealed and (2) the ankle retains some lateral support; that's why many elevator shoes are really "elevator boots".  Either way, they work best if trousers are cut accordingly; done well, worn by a well practiced wearer, they should be unobtrusive unless closely inspected.