In 1889, one amateur photographer set out to capture the lively scene at St. Simon’s Island during encampment week. What he got instead was something far stranger: a collection of blurred bathers whose faces and figures had vanished into photographic failure, while their feet remained sharply, almost absurdly, preserved.
Rather than throw the pictures away, the photographer turned his “mistake” into a “study” of women’s feet, offering the Brunswick Times reporter a series of observations that were equal parts fashion criticism, social gossip, and comic nonsense. Corns, tight shoes, shapely ankles, rumored romances, and mistaken assumptions all found their way into his commentary.
A Study of Women’s Feet
An amateur photographer recently exhibited to a Brunswick Times reporter a series of twenty-six photographs taken by him on St. Simon’s Island during encampment week in June last. Most of them showed the counterfeit presentments of surf bathers on the beach in front of the Hotel St. Simon’s.
A peculiarity about them was that in every case except one the upper part of the figure was blurred beyond recognition, while the feet stood out in startling proportions.
By way of explanation, the photographer said:
“I was a green hand with the camera, and somehow or other I couldn’t make the thing work so as to take a perfect picture. But just look at these feet! They are large, but their outlines are perfect. Since the photographs have been in my possession, I have been taking a study of feet. For instance, look here. You see this is a naked foot. It belongs to a young lady whose home is in Atlanta. These little bumps on the toes are corns. If you’ll examine closely you will observe that there are seventeen of them. Don’t you know the young lady preferred sitting down to standing up? These corns were made by tight shoes. The unfortunate owner of the feet belongs to that very large class of women who when they buy shoes fit their heads instead of their feet.”
The reporter picked up a photograph which showed a pair of feet clad in slippers. “Whose are these?” He asked.
“They belong to a Madison girl,” was the reply. “You never saw feet more perfect. By the way, I want to call your attention to a discovery I’ve made. These are the feet of a blonde. They may be large, but they will be shapely. There’s one small corn down there on that little toe, but it serves the same purpose a piece of black sticking-plaster serves on a white face — it brings out all latent beauties. The owner of these feet was one of the most popular belles at the Hotel St. Simon’s. She completely captured the hearts of the Columbus guards, and, I am told, will become the wife of a member of that company in the fall.”
Among the photographs was one which displayed an extremely handsome figure and feet just as perfect as Juno’s. The reporter was sure that he had in his hand the picture of a charming Atlanta belle, or one of Macon, or one of Brunswick.
“Who is this?” He inquired.
“Well, that, might be Queen Victoria’s youngest and handsomest grand-daughter,” was the reply, “but it isn’t. That’s a nurse who was at the Hotel St. Simon’s with a prominent Atlanta family.”
The Freeman. Indianapolis, Ind. October 5, 1889.
