On shoelaces
We like to think that, even if our politics and economics show few signs of movement towards improvement, we live in an age of continuous technological refinement. Digital inventors now deliver tools like artificial intelligence that dazzle us, jaded though we are by constant stream of wonders. But back in the analogue world some of the old technologies not only fail to progress, they slip back into uselessness. A good example is the humble shoelace.
Shoelaces as we know them date back to the twelfth century, though cruder versions can be found from much earlier times. Ötzi the Iceman, who lived around 3,300 BCE on the mountains of the Austrian-Italian border, wore elaborate shoes tied with ‘laces’. Whoever invented laces must have been delighted to have found a solution to the problem of how to keep shoes or boots on the foot without them falling off when in motion. And to have discovered a way of strapping up shoes with variable degrees of tightness, to suit the preference of the wearer. But I doubt whether he or she really thought that shoelaces would still be around centuries later. Yet they are. And they’re not getting any better.
In this they resemble zips. I wrote a while ago about how the technology of the zip has barely changed since it was invented – and how, as corners are constantly cut to make cheaper clothes, the efficacy of zips has declined. The case of the shoelace is similar.
When outside I almost always wear walking shoes. Not just any walking shoes, but one specific make, Merrell Moabs. (Don’t ask why they’re called Moabs. Moab was an ancient kingdom in the area to the east of the Dead Sea, now part of Jordan, not known for its advanced footwear.) When one pair wears out I just buy another, so that I’ve now gone through several generations (and models) of breathable Moabs. I’ve also a pair of ‘waterproof’ Goretex Moabs, but they turned out to be far from proof against Welsh rain. For me, the breathable Moabs are perfect: light, the right shape for my feet and totally comfortable. Except for one thing. The laces.
They look handsome, these laces: coiled, yellow and black, like two sun-basking adders. And their length is fine, too. But ten minutes after you’ve tied them they become untied. Even if you’ve tied them tightly, with maximum force. Re-tying them has exactly the same result. After a while you gradually feel the shoe loosening again, then you look down to see that the laces are flapping helplessly on either side.
Research tells me that there are two reasons for this. The most obvious is that the laces are made from synthetic, rather than natural fibres. The pumps (South Walian: ‘daps’) I had when I has a child had cotton shoelaces, and I don’t remember ever having a problem with them unravelling. Probably, leather, jute and hemp, other traditional cords, were just as dependable. All the natural fibres have built-in friction. Tie one end to another and the two will embrace warmly, enjoy their intimacy, stick together through thick and thin.
Synthetic laces, on the other hand, are cold creatures. When introduced they feel an instinctive revulsion to each other and immediately try to get out of the forced marriage. There simply aren’t enough connections between them to hold them together. It’s no good talking to them, or trying to reconcile them. You have to accept in the end that they’re never going to be friends, let alone lovers.
There’s a second problem. My laces are circular in section. This doesn’t give much surface to grip with. Flat laces offer much more surface, and generally tie more tightly. But flat laces, for walking shoes, seem to have become as extinct as pumps.
I can hear you say: well, I understand the problem, but why don’t you use a different, more secure knot to tie them with? Or, why seek out some non-synthetic laces to replace the originals? Both good questions. You can always knot twice, but then you struggle to get the knot undone when you do need to take the shoes off. And how easily is it to buy non-synthetic laces? Besides, I still live in hope that one day I’ll find some technique to defeat the current laces and keep them in place.
Shoelaces, of course, should be an extinct technology. Tying them is an advanced motor skill, which many children fail to master before they first go to school (some, they say, can already play the piano before they manage it). Velcro was invented in the 1950s. Simple to use, adjustable and foolproof, it should have made laces obsolete. And so it did, for small children. I suppose that association with the very young has marked Velcro as ‘immature’ for adult footwear. And laces still have a potential attraction as a fashion statement. We seem to be stuck with them.
So, if you spot me bending over double on the pavement, I’m not bagging dog shit – we don’t have a dog – but making yet another vain attempt to tie my shoelaces.
