A New Tapgrrl!!!!

As most of you know, I haven’t been posting here lately (and I know I owe at least one person a post of photos he sent me), but I could not resist this post.  I began this blog hoping to find other women/girls who put metal taps on their shoes.  We are a rare breed!

But lately I’ve had some back and forth emails with a woman from Arizona who bought a pair of boots (really nice tall leather boots with a chunk heel) and wanted to keep the bottoms in good shape.  I suggested the Arizona dealer who sells horseshoe taps, but he didn’t have small enough ones, she said.  But she found a pair of horseshoe taps on ebay and also got smaller ones for the soles.  She attached them all herself, too!  Side taps, too!!!

Lilith is her name and I hope she’ll post something about herself, but she sent me photos of her boots which I’m posting below.  Another tapgrrl in horseshoe taps!!! Like me!!!

 

Tonight (Sept. 9, 2018) Lifetime is showing a new “The Bad Seed”. I have no idea if this modernized version will have shoes with taps be the weapon, but I plan on finding out tonight.

Boots, shoes, and taps photos and stories from a follower

I’ve been emailing with a viewer on this blog who, over the years has sent me photos of boots (mainly) that he’s put taps on.  I’ve posted a few before but I forget which so here’s the whole set.  Plus below the photos is a long personal history he sent about his interest in boots and taps.  Enjoy.

 

Here’s his story:

A Tale of Taps

When I was a kid, I could get a package of crescent taps at the Woolworth five-and-dime store on Grand River Avenue, near Southfield Drive, not too far from where I lived in Detroit. And of course shoe repair shops had them, too.

Some of the more “daring” kids – the boys, not the girls – in my grade school bought them and hammered them onto the heels of their shoes. The click-chick-clicking sound they made on the terrazzo hallways in school were rather alluring. I got myself a pair and attached them to my brown and very boring Boy Scout shoes. They changed the way I walked.

When I felt bold and brash, I could scrape my heels on the sidewalk and create a half-way decent racket. When I felt more withdrawn, I could walk on the sides of my heels and not make much of a sound at all. At other times, I could enjoy the simple click, click, clicking as I walked along.

I remember one morning on my way to Sunday school. I was walking with a couple of friends and I thought they might tease me about my taps, so I simply moved off the sidewalk onto the grass. No click, click, click. But a little weird, as I kicked up quite a spray from the morning dew.

One day – perhaps when I was in the seventh grade – I was on my knees at the back of the classroom looking for some books in a bookcase. One of the girls saw the heels of my shoes. “What big taps you have,” she said. I took that as a wonderful compliment.

I only had a pair or two of shoes with taps when I was in grade school and high school. In college, I think I was tap free. But after college, I found that proper business attire included well-polished shoes with a little triangular metal tab on the edge of each heel. The sound wasn’t nearly as robust as it was with my earlier crescent taps, but it was still a muted click click. Better than nothing!

One pair of business shoes I bought didn’t have any metal at all, just a round plastic peg near the edge of each heel. An interesting change of pace, but with no significant sound value whatsoever.

I found that as my tap focus faded somewhat, my interest in shoes accelerated. I liked different styles – unique shoes and boots, something out of the ordinary. And I guess that’s when I began to take an interest in putting together a collection of shoes. It started very slowly, but ramped up as the decades drifted by.

I remember one time in Kingston, New York (where I was working at the time). I was in a shoe store looking around (as I liked to do) and I found a pair of shoes with 3/4-inch platforms and probably 2-inch heels. The shoes were wild and wonderful and definitely out of the ordinary. I wanted to buy them, but then I thought: No! I’m way too old to buy these shoes. Maybe if I was twenty years younger I could get them. It’s just not right for me with job, home, and family responsibilities to make such a frivolous purchase. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t be seen walking around in a pair of shoes that might look okay for some bopper to be wearing on TV. I have to be respectable. I have to be dignified. I have to be refined.

I bought them anyway.

And I enjoyed them. A lot. But I felt somewhat embarrassed. After all, I had disregarded all my sound and reasonable objections. I had let my feelings reign over my common sense.

And I installed a fine pair of crescent taps to the heels. Probably Eagle 5s.

I wore the shoes to a meeting in Canada. It wasn’t a business meeting. It was a casual gathering, so I thought my new shoes wouldn’t garner too much attention.

As it turned out, I was called up on stage in front of everyone. Across the wooden stage I walked: click, click, click! It was a very loud CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. There was no hiding. My taps screamed out for one and all to look at my crazy new shoes! I wished the stage had a strip of grass on it.

On another trip to Canada, this time with several friends, I wore the same shoes. Going through Immigration Control, I was pulled out of line and taken to a special room for questioning. I guess my shoes identified me as some kind of risk to the whole Canadian country! After a fairly brief interrogation, I returned to my friends, who were waiting for me in Reception. Yes, the ribbing lasted throughout our visit.

At work in Kingston, there was one other guy (that I knew of) who had taps on his shoes. His name was Lloyd. He had taps on his heels and on the toes of his shoes. I thought that was a little over the top. Taps belong on heels, not on the front of the soles. I thought it was overkill. I thought it was silly. I didn’t like it. At all.

To moderate and control somewhat the sound of my taps, I found I could countersink them ever so slightly into the heels. To do that, I outlined them in pencil in the proper location on each heel, then used a router to remove enough material so the tap would sit flush with the rest of the heel. Then, I could position my foot to either engage the tap or not as situations demanded. Sort of like having my cake and eating it, too.

I had taps on the heels of the loafers I wore to work. One day when a bunch of us in our department headed out for lunch, I slipped in the stairway and almost slid down a whole flight of stairs. Fortunately, I was able to grab and hold onto the railing and prevent a full headlong plunge, but it was a serious embarrassment – right in front of my office mates. There was one and only one reason for my misstep: my taps.

For some reason, such episodes did not sour my liking for taps.

One time on a trip with my brother, he objected to the sound my taps were making. I didn’t think they were that loud, but he objected. Strongly. He said he wanted to walk behind me so he wouldn’t be associated with the clicking. He said I should never wear shoes with taps in his presence.

So, that made me think: If brother Jim was so offended by a little click, click, clicking, how were others reacting to these sounds? Were they similarly displeased? Or were they okay with the noise-making going on? Or did they have any reaction at all?

I made a number of business trips over the years to a number of countries, and if I had the time and was able, I tried to search out a shoe store to visit. I bought a pair or black boots and a pair of brown boots in London (during two trips there). Then I installed taps on each pair.

I got a pair of suede boots in Sydney, Australia, then added taps when I got home. I’ve since tried two or three different kinds of taps for these.

When I visited Thailand, I bought two pairs of ankle boots. Unfortunately, they’re now gone.

As more years slipped by, I found my interest in shoes and taps continue to rise. My shoe collection was growing and I attached taps on heels wherever I could.

Usually, taps work well with leather heels and not so well with rubber heels. Rubber tends to mute the sound and make it tinny and wimpy. Nonetheless, I put taps on some shoes with crape heels and even on some sneakers with reasonable success. But some shoes simply defy tap attachment. The resulting sound is rather unpleasant.

Long ago, I found that shoe stores were usually the worst place to look for interesting and fun shoes. Most people want what’s more common, what’s more mundane, what’s for me completely uninteresting. But stores must cater to where the most business is, not to where my strange tastes lie.

I’ve found the Internet offers a broad and often satisfying selection of shoes and boots for purchase. I spend more time than I should searching from website to website. I’ve made footwear purchases on-line from the UK, Spain, Mexico, Japan, and China, maybe elsewhere. And I am generally pleased with my purchases.

Not so, however, with my dealings with China. I’ve been ripped off three times by China companies. Once when my money was taken, but I never received what I ordered. Two times when the businesses sent me something other than what I wanted. And they refused to give me a refund or allow me to return the shoes. Recommendation: don’t buy from China! Sometimes it’s hard to know you’re dealing with a China business because many Chinese websites are designed to hide that fact.

I did run across a great shoe store in Miami a bunch of years ago at the Bayside Marketplace. I was mesmerized by the selection of New Rock shoes and boots on display. I had never seen the New Rock line before. I gazed at them for some time, then finally made a selection. The salesman wrapped up the shoes I was wearing so I could wear what I had just purchased. I was feeling mighty fine!

I walked around the shopping center so others could appreciate my fine taste in footwear. I paused at a spot where I could look out at the bay. Seagulls were circling about high above me. A few landed just overhead. The thought came to mind that the birds might wish to relieve themselves. It was just a half-second or so after the same thought occurred to the birds.

I was standing directly under them and I thought I’d get a good splattering on my head. Or my shoulder. Or an arm. Nope. Those clever birds timed things so their “gift” missed my head, and my shoulders, and my arms, and made a direct hit on my brand new shoes!

It was an unwanted christening. The birds were totally indifferent to the horror they had created. I retreated to the mens’ room for a little cleanup.

On the way back to my car, I paused for traffic to pass so I could cross a street. One driver had her window open as she drove by. “Nice shoes!” she yelled at me. My purchase decision was confirmed.

I guess it has been five to ten years ago now that I first came across a website hosted by “Tapgrrl.” I enjoyed reading some of the writings and looking at some of the photographs of taps on shoes. But Tapgrrl is corrupting. She is! And I’ve been corrupted. Mightily corrupted.

I saw some pictures of shoes with horseshoe taps. I hadn’t come across horseshoe taps before. I was intrigued. They looked mean. They looked intriguing. They looked terrific. I thought: I must get some horseshoe taps. And I did.

I found a couple pairs of shoes in my closet were fine candidates for crescent-to-horseshoe tap transplants and I completed the operations. The horseshoe taps were dandy. They were great! Taps give a “click.” Horseshoe taps give a “clickity-click.”

Lots of photos on Tapgrrl’s website showed taps on the front edges of soles. I thought that just wasn’t right. But then I thought: Maybe I should give it a try anyway. And I did. And I surprised myself by liking the result.

Yes, I’ve been thoroughly corrupted. I thought toe taps were silly, but now I’m a fan. I’m a believer. I thought crescent taps were the entire universe. Now I’ve found there’s a horseshoe dimension I never knew existed. Tapgrrl has exposed me to a whole family of tap-wise, tap-wearing, tap-proud people roaming around enjoying the simple pleasure of the sound of taps. (Not from a bugle.)

More from Mr. Ed–horseshoe plates this time

Here’s two sets of photos sent to me by Mr. Ed.  The first is of a pair of burnt-orange Flagg Brothers front buckle boots from 1969-1970-before I was born!–flat heeled and tall.  Nicely large horseshoes! 

The second is a pair of recent shorty Western boots with, he says, 3 3/4″ heels!  Wow!

 

NO TOE TAPS?  Or side taps either.  Well we all have room for improvement, don’t we?  Thanks, Ed., for sending them to me so I could post them.

3rd pair of taps on these boots

Photos from Mr. Ed, who may be a “lurker” on the site.  Welcome, Mr. Ed.  Write some more as a comment to this post about your history of wearing taps and anything else tap-related you’d like to share.

Banana taps? Never saw those!

Blake sent these photos of two pairs of his oxfords. One of them is titled “banana plates”. I never saw that shape before.

Tapnut–Are his shoes the “last taps standing”?

I received another set of photos from Tapnut: Some nifty penny loafers with double-thick horseshoes, #8 toe taps, and FOUR side-taps on each shoe, every hole inserted with screws. But it’s been many months, probably over a year, since anyone else has shown me taps on their shoes or boots and it might be that long since I’ve applied taps to shoes–mainly because I’ve not bought any shoes lately!

If anyone else has photos they want posted on this site, just send them to me–tapgrrl@gmail.com. I’d particularly like to see some well-worn taps–not too well worn, just evidencing some substantial public exposure.

Here is Tapnut’s fine creation. I’ll leave it to him to comment on why he chose this setup and how he likes them.

Awesome Tassle Loafers

A year ago Tapnut 2 (I believe that’s what he identifies himself as here) sent me photos of some loafers he tapped up and I neglected to post them as he gently reminded me this week. They are awesome with double horseshoes that look like double-thick single horseshoes–no space between them–as well as a nifty outer ring of metal that he crafted from silver bracelets. Also nice-sized side taps and large toe taps. I want some! Here’s more of what he wrote about them: “For some time, I been looking for other metal treatments…
The metal band on the heel was the best I could come up with this time.
I haven’t noticed a problem with side taps, so far…perhaps it’s because my soles are a little thicker.
But I am a bit concerned with my latest creation because their size may restrict toe flex.
I use #4 flat head wood screws….available at larger home depots.
I use 3/8″ for sole taps….they don’t poke through the sole…even my thinish soles.
For the heels, I use 5/8″ or 3/4″.
In both cases, I have to drill out the holes in the plates for the screws to penetrate.
Then I have to countersink the holes too so the screws will at least be flush with the plate.
Use a carbide-tipped countersink on a power drill.
For the sole taps, an ice pick is sufficient to get the screws started,
But on hard heels, I usually have to make a pilot hole.
And yes, I use screws to get a solid attachment and identical sound.”

Here’s his pics:

I came across a pointer to some pretty massive and “enhanced” boots on eBay: https://www.ebay.com/itm/272919543121

With double horseshoe heel pates, toe bumpers, side plates, everyone would know when you arrived!

Wowsy! Horseshoe taps stacked HIGH plus toe bumpers sticking straight out and hobnails

Alright I’ve given away everything significant about these boots in the title but you might want to have a look at the 10+ photos now on ebay:
http://www.ebay.com/itm/Gladiator-Boots-Custom-Taps-Heel-Plates-Added-UK-7-US-8-Steel-Toe-Lifted-Cleated-/142514018601
Here’s one photo for you: