Pointe shoes are the ultimate symbol of a ballet dancer. The image of someone standing on their toes inspires awe, or at least pain, in every mind. Naturally, I get a lot of questions about pointe shoes, and since I’m going through extreme shoe drama (more on that later), I figured that now would be a good time to share my knowledge.
The most common question I get (besides, “Do you really go up on your toes? Like, all the way up?”) is “What are your shoes made of?” I’ve heard people suggest wood, plastic, even metal, but the truth is much more mundane—layers of cardboard and glue. That’s right, pointe shoes are essentially paper mâché wrapped in pink satin. This makes the sole of the shoe (what we call the shank) malleable, so it forms to the arch of the foot and supports the dancer while they’re up on their toes (yes, all the way up).
However, this also causes the shoe to die (when the shoe won’t support the dancer) quickly. Most shoes die within two months, though I’ve had pairs in the last six months, and some professional dancers have been known to go through two or more pairs of shoes in a single show. It really depends on the dancer and the shoe. No matter what, dancers are in constant need of new shoe—and they aren’t cheap. Your average pair of pointe shoes runs $60-$80, though they often run more expensive.
And there-in lies my problem.
The shoes I normally purchase are Russian Pointes, which are well known for being sturdy shoes that are handmade in Russia. They are the only shoes I have found that fit my awkwardly-sized feet, and I absolutely adore them. Half-way through spring, I realized that I needed more shoes, so my mother ordered them online, and we waited the four to six weeks they told us it would take. Eight weeks later, we called up the store, and they told us the shoes were on backorder, and that it would be another two months.
At this point, my mother and I went searching for back-up shoes, which turned out to be a good idea. Two months quickly became four, and the shoes are now on indefinite backorder from Russia. This sucks, but at least I have my back-up shoes, right?
Well, I would if they fit.
Remember the shank? That part of the shoe breaks in too low down on my arch, sending my foot way too far over my box (the part of the shoe where our toes go). This makes it so that I’m dancing only on my big toenail, which is rather dangerous, not to mention painful. I simply can’t dance in these shoes.
Luckily, I’m heading up to the Dance Shoppe on Friday, Nov. 11, in a quest for shoes that fit. They’re the best in the area when it comes to pointe shoe fittings, so here’s hoping that, come Saturday, Nov. 12 I won’t be fearing for my life, and my toenails, any longer.
