How Bridgerton revived the ballet flat

First introduced for off-stage wear in the 1940s, ballet flats are back thanks to Bridgerton. Here, a brief history of the classically chic shoe.

A satin style with socks on Miu Miu’s fall runway.

Chief among the many factors that have fuelled ballet slippers’ recent ascent to coolness, I’d count: Instagram, Bridgerton and the pandemic-induced pursuit of comfort. The shoes’ appearance on the world’s catwalks, paired with scrunched-up tube socks and hip-slung tennis skirts, suggests this is a trend with legs.

Meanwhile, indie Instagram accounts have been documenting the hipster aesthetic of the mid-noughties – think Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs – a time now viewed as a more innocent, golden age of style, when party girls like Kate Moss wore Repetto Cendrillon ballet flats. Throw in a collective disenchantment with lumbering boots and sneakers and the stage was set for the ballet-flat revival.

Some brands, like Chanel and Margaux, consider classic ballet flats part of their DNA. But a wider range of designers has lately been tinkering with the shoe’s dainty proportions. Both Mansur Gavriel and Khaite have given theirs squared-off, pointe-shoe-style toes. Molly Goddard has affixed skinny ankle ties (and introduced men’s sizes).

“Comfort leads to confidence and confidence leads to style,” says Margaux co-founder Alexa Buckley, explaining the ballet flat’s enduring appeal. “After the past couple of years, comfort is really important.”

Ballet developed at the 17th-century court of Louis XIV, where dancers wore the era’s fashionable garb, including corsets and high heels. Almost 100 years later, the ballerina Marie Camargo was the first to trade heels for flats, perhaps the better to perform the dazzling footwork for which she was renowned. When heels fell out of favour after the French Revolution at the end of the 18th century, they were replaced with delicate, thin-soled slippers, a boon for dancers who wanted to appear fashionable while performing. This was the type of shoe worn both onstage and off during the Regency era – when Bridgerton is set – and into the early Victorian era.

“After the past couple of years, comfort is really important.”

The modern ballet flat emerged in the 1940s, when the cultural currency of ballet was so strong that fashion designers adopted its lexicon of tutus and fitted bodices for day and evening wear. In New York, Claire McCardell, often called “the mother of American sportswear”, dug deeper, taking inspiration from practice clothes like tights and leotards to turn out soft jersey knits. In 1943, McCardell partnered with the dance brand Capezio to produce ballet slippers made with fabrics from her spring collection and soled for the street. The demure Audrey Hepburn preferred Capezio ballet flats and helped make them a status symbol.

It was a collaboration born of necessity: Shoe rationing had been introduced that February to guarantee the military a constant supply of leather, of which it needed staggering amounts – 16 million Americans served in World War II and they needed their boots frequently replaced. Consequently, designers had limited access to leather, and the rationing of chemicals used in the dye process also left them few colour options.

When McCardell discovered that ballet slippers were exempt from the new restrictions, she devised her ingenious solution.

Her story might take on new relevance for anyone currently struggling with ongoing supply-chain disruptions.

Designer Tory Burch’s spring collection pays homage to McCardell, featuring a nod to the designer’s two-toned riff on ballet flats.

The modern ballet flat emerged in the 1940s, when the cultural currency of ballet was so strong that fashion designers adopted its lexicon of tutus and fitted bodices for day and evening wear.

“Glamour, comfort and women’s needs were equally important to her,” says Burch of the woman who inspired her northern spring collection. “The ballet flat gives you all of that.”

When she launched her brand 18 years ago, Burch’s early successes included the Reva ballet flat, named for her mother.

The ballet flat’s midcentury ubiquity was assured when it was adopted by two dancers-turned-actresses: Brigitte Bardot and Audrey Hepburn. The Cendrillon style beloved by Kate Moss was originally made for Bardot, who wore them in And God Created Woman, the 1956 film that established her as an international sex symbol. The demure Hepburn preferred Capezios, which helped to make them an “it” accessory – especially among adolescents.

Thanks in part to the regard with which Hepburn is remembered and the shoe’s French-girl associations, we view the ballet flat today as refined and elegant. But once World War II ended, it was seen as more anti-fashion than high fashion. In 1948, when fashion magazines were promoting slim, slightly tapered high heels, one journalist wrote that women’s ongoing penchant for flat shoes was a) causing their feet to get bigger, and b) aesthetically offensive (“gigantic flat feet which shuffle blithely around the streets”).

The worst offenders? “Grubby ballet slippers.” No wonder teenage girls loved and continue to love them.