Women who believed in the beauty of bound feet took care of them diligently, like a fastidious gentleman in the service of his lord. Fang Hsun advised men with concubines, whom he called Masters of the Golden Rooms, to be polite and proper to ladies whose feet were so finely bound that they seemed to give rise to lotuses with every step. “Do not remove the bindings to look at her bare foot, but be satisfied with its external appearance. Enjoy the outward impression, for if you remove the shoes and binding the aesthetic feeling will be destroyed forever.”
For genteel lovers, the tiny foot provided endless amusement. The woman enhanced her attraction by allowing it to protrude slightly beyond the skirt. She stimulated her partner by extending the feet daintily outside the loving bird coverlets. With pretended pique, she kicked the lover’s foot with her own, while he conveyed intimacy by touching her foot surreptitiously. He also wrote a character on the foot, holding it in his palm. On other occasions, he rubbed it in his palm in amorous play. The smell of the unwashed foot had its charms for some, who referred to it as a “fragrant bed aroma.”
Last night wild love-play loosened the lotus roots;
On arising, layer upon layer are tightly rebound.
As she binds, fleecy cloth entangles her slender fingers;
She spricles perfume, achiving greater fragrance.
A poem by Ts’Ai-Fei Lu editor Yao Ling-hsi based on drawings by Ts’ao Nan-Mei
The aesthete was not easily pleased; to him, perhaps only one foot in a hundred satisfied critical standards. Fang Hsun felt that major defects existed when the instep of the foot was too plump, like a goose head; there were corns on the side or bottom; the back of the shoe was split open and tied together with thread but not sewn; plum pits were used to give the stockings a more fragrant odor; high heels were worn to give a false impression of smallness; the foot was bandaged with two short bindings instead of a single long one; the lady called herself Golden Lotus; one used certain common words to compose inferior poetry about tiny feet. In the heyday of footbinding, there were literally hundreds of poems written in its praise.
The bound foot appealed both to the senses and to the imagination. A man solicitously rubbed the foot of his beloved because he felt compassion for her discomfort from the binding. A shape of the foot was sometimes placed inside books, ostensibly to prevent insects from devouring the pages. To the initiated, the sight of a lady about to wash her feet was likened to the sudden blossoming of all the flowers at court. On a cold winter’s night, the stove having gone out, a lady might get warm by inserting the tiny feet inside her lover’s bosom. The foot also provided an inspiration for the composition of worthwhile prose.
There were things to be ashamed of, such as failing to love and appreciate the wife whose feet were finely bound. Other sources for mortification included binding with a very coarse linen cloth, accidentally stepping on a lady’s bound foot, wearing dilapidated shoes and socks, going for an entire year without even one foot-washing, walking on muddy surfaces instead of the best roads, losing one’s shoes in a crowd and having to walk without them, not binding until late adolescence, wearing grass sandals, washing the feet in a basin of cold water, and having to wait on a lady who has natural feet.
A woman with properly bound feet enhanced every scene. It was especially pleasing to watch her bind, wash, make shoes or try them on, tie shoelaces by the balustrade, or pare down foot calluses with a knife under a lantern. The lady kicking a ball under the shadow of the flowers was another appealing sight. She might also be observed throwing down a book and clasping her knees, or admiring her bound feet in the spring, as if they were lovable and caressable. But if an intimate caressed her foot, she might strike him lightly in mock anger. “The first time you rub her foot, you feel both enamored and apprehensive. You love her foot, but are afraid that she’ll cry out when you start rubbing it.” Her footprints in the sand might be washed away by the waves but still felt by one seized with love madness.
The feet were annointed with fragrances to suit every occasion. Total ignorance of these perfuming techniques might cause one to be laughed at or ridiculed:
1. Use a sandalwood fragrance when binding.
2. Put a fragrance in the water when washing.
3. Place shoes and socks over a fragrant fire.
4. Use an orchid fragrance when putting shoes and socks away.
There were also general rules to be observed when washing the feet. Fang Hsun advised ladies of his generation to mix in an aromatic incense when boiling the water, sit with flowers by one’s side, and have sympathetic maids in attendance. Of course, we know that most women of our modern age insisted on washing in strictest privacy and on being unattended. Another aesthete stressed the need for performing these ablutions in a graceful and light lotus-blossom-shaped beige basin. The virtues of foot washing were manifold: the blood circulated better than before, the flesh became softer, making it easier to make the shoes fit, and calluses were removed so as to facilitate walking.
A woman with bound feet looked her best when she was standing above you, as on a mountain. An ugly wife was fortunate if bystanders praised her for having small feet, while a tiny-footed prostitute might be adored by many men for the same reason:
A tiny foot can atone for three-fourths of a woman’s ugliness.
One never selects a large-footed prostitute.
A large-footed woman, when walking, sounds as thunderous as the combined noise of more than ten households. But unlucky indeed was the lady wedded to an uneducated village boor, having to let her dainty feet be grasped in his coarse hands. Still more hapless was the low-grade prostitute who, night after night, was pawed about by drunken customers and had her tiny feet lifted on to their shoulders.
Fang Hsun supplied the above comments in Qualities of Fragrant Lotuses, and in a second monograph called A Golden Garden Miscellany supplemented the orderly presentation in Qualities with random remarks and subjective impressions. These were arranged by subject:
Things which never happen—waiting for a woman to claim her lost shoe, since she is too embarrassed to do so. Asking a famous artist to paint a flower on your sandal, since no one of repute will paint by order. It is bad luck to have your shoes painted this way, and also an ill omen to get rid of shoes or give them away to someone else.
Inappropriate—a large foot in red shoes.
Ashamed to go out—the bride whose husband has just complimented her for having such extraordinarily large feet.
Fear of being discovered—the woman who lightly touches a man’s foot with her own to communicate love feelings.
Never averse—to wearing someone else’s old shoes. The country bumpkin is never averse to choosing a wife with big feet so she can help with the work.