Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men Biogarphy

Source(google.com.pk)
Even in 15th and 16th century artwork of battlefield close combat you will be challenged to find examples of what look like boots, let alone shoes with thick heels. Fighting men obviously knew something about the necessity for light close-fitting footwear. In the “age of maile” and the “age of plate,” as well as into the “pike and musket era,” a surprising multitude of military artwork depicts simple flat shoes, quite often even with attached spurs. Whether the figures are knights or commoners, armored or unarmored, on the battlefield or in single combat, engaged in training or judicial duels, wielding anything from poleaxes to rapiers, or even grappling unarmed, the consistency in the footwear illustrations across regions and centuries cannot be denied.
We see light footwear worn indoors and outdoors on all terrains and manner of floors. Even when armored sabatons are worn, they are invariably depicted as close-fitting, conforming to the natural shape of the foot, with no hint of thick protruding heels. It’s important to realize, heels on shoes were historically for one purpose: fitting into stirrups. Later they were for fashion. But heels were certainly never for purposes of fencing. And thick soles on shoes were typically for walking long distances.
Across generations, artists of the period took the time to put detail into weapons and clothing and postures; we cannot imagine they fictionalized what was worn on the feet or somehow neglected to show such common items correctly. To argue otherwise, that the diverse source images depicting thousands of examples of light shoes, are somehow not to be believed, is madness.
Besides the overwhelming iconographic evidence for light footwear being worn by Medieval and Renaissance fighting men, there are other proofs. In the 1621 work, The Triumphs of God’s Revenge, a series of fictional tales of murder and retribution by the English writer John Reynolds, we read in Book I of the Italian gallant Gasparino’s challenge to the courtly thug Pisani. The parties meet and tie their horses to the hedge, pull off their spurs and then, “cut away the timber-heeles of their bootes, that they might not trippe, but stand firme in their play.” Writing in 1863 on the history of young German aristocracy in the 17th century, Gustav Freytag similarly described a military dignitary on his way to a duel: “He then rode with his second to the nearest village; behind a hedge he pulled off his riding-boots, put on light fencing shoes…” Boots were simply unsuited to needs of single combat.
Boots, for that matter, were something you wore when traveling. They were something high and sturdy to avoid mud and the ever-present filth. They were designed to keep your feet warm and dry and to not quickly wear out. But despite what The Three Musketeers pretends (itself based on 19th century notions of historical costume), riding boots were certainly not designed for the quick agile actions needed in hand-to-hand fighting. It is not hard to notice that as the importance of close combat skills declined in the mid-17th century, soldiers were outfitted more and more with military footwear designed for long marches, extended campaigns in the field, and firing guns from standing ranks.

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men

Shoes for Men