Keds: Symbol for the Silent Generation?

Haiku to a shoe:

soft canvas foot gloves

subtle, sturdy, stealthy, slight,

smooth soles hug summer

Mentioning “Keds” in my posting last week about the school picnic resulted in some comments from readers. They enlightened me about its several other meanings: (1) as an acronym for the Kendrick Extrication Device (KED) used in removing accident victims from motor vehicles; and (2) here in Ames, Iowa, home of the National Animal Disease Center, keds is the common name for louse flies, particularly the variety that can paralyze sheep.

Of course, I was referring to summertime inexpensive canvas shoes that have been produced in the U.S. for some 90 years—first by U.S. Rubber/Uniroyal and now by Stride Rite—the authentic sneakers, which live on despite competition from Nike, Adidas and all those pricey designer running shoes. In the 1950s, they were usually white with a small blue rectangular “Keds” trademark on the back of the heel. Wearing white anklets and brightening the canvas once a week with white shoe polish helped to conceal the worn spots over the big toes that appeared by late August after 3 months of wear.

Happily, Keds are still made. In fact, despite Wikipedia’s pronouncement awhile back that they are “dorky” and most wearers are from the age “40+ set,” the fashion industry has rediscovered my beloved shoes (now known as “Classic Champions”) for the Spring 2008 collections. In addition to their prominence in recent fashion magazines, models in the New York runway shows wore them (see right). So we’re cool again! In fact, I had trouble finding a new pair at the mall last week since the college kids have already grabbed them up (a steal at $25).

Although Keds were never as popular among the 1950s boys (perhaps overshadowed by Converse Chucks), my husband, Andrejs, recalls his first gym class in America in 1951. Fresh from a D.P. camp in Germany, he puzzled over the list of required clothing that included high-top Keds (with practical rubber-covered toes) and a white tee shirt—two items he’d never heard of. Eventually, the Latvian language (at least in the U.S.) added the noun “kedas” once all the young Latvian émigrés began wearing them. Their thrifty parents soon saw the advantage of outfitting their kids in kedas and džīnsas (jeans).

In high school, Andrejs became a standout in tennis, where Keds were the standard footwear. I remember the first day of my tennis lessons at Thelma Fansmith’s, before she’d allow us near her clay court, we had to show her the soles of our shoes. Those whose sneakers had patterned soles were sent packing.

To prove that I wasn’t the only Keds fan in 1958, see the yearbook photo of a posed looking basketball quartet (below) where three are wearing classic champion Keds—both seniors, Kathy Humphreys and Judy Roth (who seems to be seeking divine inspiration), and our phys. ed. teacher, Vera Brandt, a fashion plate in her tailored Bermuda shorts and argyle knee socks. Only our home ec teacher, Dorothy Drazenovich, has on the gym shoes (with the long laces) issued by N. Allegheny—to match the regulation gym suit. Perhaps it was out of loyalty to her husband, Joe, who may have had a hand in choosing the gym wear as NAHS’ first boys’ phys ed teacher.

THOSE ABOMINABLE GYM SUITS

Has any other article of apparel ever been designed that was quite as ugly and unflattering as those gym suits were? We tried to streamline them by tying the two ends of the self-belt in the back (tail-like)—as you can see Judy has done. And we rolled up those ridiculously long, flaring shorts (as all 3 wearers have done). My cousin Nancy Givens Williams reminded me how sometimes we tucked the flared shorts up around our underpants to create a bloomer effect. As Nancy says, “At first Mrs. Brandt forbid us to do it, but then she relented because it definitely looked better…not great…but better.”

Meanwhile, what were the boys wearing? White tee-shirts and green boxer shorts. Would it have been too indiscreet if we girls had worn that same outfit (minus the jockstraps, of course)?

If anyone still possesses a jolly green gym suit, could you please send me a color photo I can reprint? The color is hard to describe—and never existed in nature. Or could you bring your suit to the reunion Saturday night? And we promised, you wouldn’t have to model it!

This posting is dedicated to Eamonn’s and Alex’s wonderful mother, Brenda, my costume designing daughter, who likes me to write about clothes and who made me her mother about 40 years ago. And to everyone else’s mother as well, Happy Mother’s Day!