Category Archives: Stories

Leonardo – Life Is Hard When You Are Marble

This is a fun story that developed when brainstorming Egypt Calling with Paul. In his story, a huge statue of Ramses II disappears. In mine, things are far less dramatic. It is just that life is very confusing if you find yourself alive, standing on a plinth in a museum. Especially if you haven’t been alive before.

I will occasionally post a chapter here since I think we all need a bit of distraction every now and then. And perhaps it makes us sympathize with the artworks in our exhibitions – and everybody else in there.

Chapter 1 – Boring

Boring.

That was what it was.

Standing on a plinth in the middle of the room, being lit by colorful lights and looked at by people was just boring.

A statue of a naked warrior or athlete standing, back turned to the viewer, on a plinth. There us ivy growing up the plinth and his leg.
Image by Manon25s from Pixabay
Image by Manon25s from Pixabay

It had taken him three times to realize it.

Three times of people leaving, the lights being switched off, the doors being locked, the doors being unlocked, the lights being switched on again, and the people coming back in.

But now, he knew it for sure:

This was boring.

Now the question was: what could he do about it?

He didn’t know much about himself. He knew that he was marble. The second kind of people said so.

As far as he had observed, there were three kinds of people:

There were those who came in and looked at him. Then, there were those who came in, barely looked at him, but then pointed with their fingers at him and told the looking kind of people stuff about him. And finally, there were those people who just stood or sat in a corner. They scowled at everybody and barked orders at the first kind of people.

Usually they shouted that people shouldn’t touch his butt.

Not that he minded that. At least people interacted with him. It was far better than just being stared at as if something was wrong with him.

Although…some of the looking kind of people not even really looked at him.

They turned their back on him and then, they held up small rectangle things that showed a small version of him and the faces of the people. People giggled when they did that. He didn’t understand what was funny about it.

People, in general, were very odd.

But he was digressing.

So, he was marble. He had no idea what that meant but it sounded good. Solid, somehow.

But what did it mean, being marble? Did it mean he couldn’t do anything but standing on a plinth in the middle of a room and being stared at?

From all he had seen when looking at himself on people’s little rectangle things, he looked a lot like people. Hands, feet, tummy, all was there. He was just larger.

8 feet.

That was what the pointing people always told the staring people. He looked at his right foot—which was easy to do since it was below him, directly in his line of sight—and did a rough estimate. If he imagined placing one foot in front of the other and doing that eight times… yes, yes, it could be that this was his height.

Wait.

Could he actually do that? Place one foot in front of the other?

For now, he had never tried to move.

Ever since he had become aware of himself—he didn’t know how many times the light had been turned off and on since then, but it had been a while—he just stood here and observed his surroundings. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he could actually move. Standing on a plinth just seemed like…the natural and decent thing to do.

But it was boring. He had established that. It was boring. And so, perhaps he should try something new?

Carefully he lifted the big toe of his right foot. It rose from the plinth without effort.

“Mom, Mom, the statue is wiggling its toe!” someone shouted.

It was one of those small people. Sometimes the big, staring people were accompanied by small versions of themselves. They were much more fun than the big ones. They ran around and laughed and touched things. And then the other, grim-looking people shouted at them and had serious words with some of the big people.

“Sure it did, dear. And now, come here, we want to see the installation in the next room,” a large one replied. Someone with long hair, a flowery dress, and an annoyed expression. Mom, he assumed.

“But, Mom! I saw it. Look!” The little person had come close.

He set his toe on the plinth again. It seemed it was at least something extraordinary to do and he didn’t want one of the grim-looking people come over and shout at him. He would try some more of this moving things when the lights were switched off again.

A frown of profound thoughts crinkled the little person’s forehead. Then they reached out with their tiny hand and touched his toe. Like always when people did that, it felt strange. Warm. Not at all uncomfortable. Just a bit…not like his toe usually felt.

“How many times have I told you not to touch the art?” Mom yelled, grabbed the hand of the little person and pulled them away.

Before they both disappeared through the door to the next room, the little one turned around once more, gave him another frown, and then, they smiled and winked at him.

And before he knew it, he moved one eyelid and winked back.

So, he was art.

He had assumed as much since somehow he heard that term a lot around here. He was marble and he was art. That at least was something he could cling to.

He contemplated what art could be and why people were not allowed to touch art although it felt nice. He did that until all people left the room, the doors were locked, and the lights went out.

Then, he resumed wiggling his toe. When he felt comfortable doing that, he removed his whole left foot from the plinth. It didn’t take any effort. He set it down again and lifted his right foot. That didn’t work.

He gave it a long thought why it was different. Perhaps because his weight rested on his right foot? He slowly put more weight on his left foot and then tried again.

That did it. Now he could lift his right foot.

Good. For some time he just did that. Lifted his right foot, set it down again, shifted his weight, lifted the left foot. Yes, that was like it. He could even imagine walking forward like people did. He needed to try!

He lifted his left foot and instead of setting it down again he took a big step forward.

The next thing he heard was a loud crash, he wasn’t standing upright anymore, and he had a very detailed view of the mosaic on the floor.

“Sorry,” he said to the multifaceted face of a woman riding a deer. For the first time heard how his voice sounded. And he realized that he could speak. It sounded a bit rough. Perhaps gravely? This was probably how marble sounded.

The woman on the deer, however, remained silent.

Perhaps she was still shocked or perhaps she just wasn’t the talkative type. And someone just falling onto you was for sure not the best way to make an introduction.

Besides, he had no idea what his name was so could hardly introduce himself.

He probably should focus on the more basic things first.

He cautiously shifted his limbs. Feet to stand on. Hands and arms to push upright and balance the body. It wasn’t very complicated, he just wasn’t used to it. He rose to his feet again and made a few steps. It was easy. Why had he fallen onto the floor in the first place?

He looked back at the plinth. Oh, of course. Not the same level. He had to pay attention to the height difference in things.

Nothing hurt, but he imagined that the grim-looking people were not in favor of him falling into things. He probably should avoid meeting those people altogether while he was walking around. If they freaked out at someone simply touching his butt they were probably not very fond of finding that butt not in its usual place.

But the grim-looking people that were so obsessed with his lower backside weren’t here, now, so he could do as he pleased.

He walked around the room until he felt confident on his feet. Then he approached the door.

“Caution. Alarm system active,” a big, friendly, green writing informed him.

He remembered that once an alarm had gone off because one of the little people had opened a wrong door. It was very loud. He hadn’t liked that at all, so he didn’t touch the door.

Instead, he wandered around the room. “Renaissance and Contemporary Art,” a big text panel said but when he started reading, it became confusing and boring so he decided it was written for someone else. Someone who wasn’t marble.

There was a lot of texts to read everywhere. It seemed all the things in the room had little labels with a lot of letters on them. He got curious and read the one on his own plinth.

Leonardo DiMontici

Reinvention of a naked Greek athlete as dreamed about on the 6th of January 1972

Marble, 7 feet 3 inches (2.2 meters)
1986

So, this was who he was?

Leonardo DiMontici?

Good to know. So, not only he had now confirmed he was marble, he also had a name. Leonardo. Sounded nice. And he wasn’t 8 feet tall, just 7 feet and a few inches. He wondered if he should be disappointed about that but couldn’t think of a reason. He also found nothing that looked like inches on his body, so he just memorized everything written on the label and moved on.

He tried to speak to a few other pieces which were probably also art, just not marble, but none of them seemed interested in a conversation. They didn’t react in any way although he always read the labels and addressed them with their names.

Perhaps he was the only art thing that could move and speak?

That sounded boring. And lonely.

He wondered if there was a way to leave the room without going through the door. He was really curious how the rest of this place looked and if perhaps in other rooms there were others like him.

Perhaps he could sneak out in the early morning, when the grim-looking people left the room to do whatever they had to do after they switched all the lights on?

That was a plan.

Very satisfied with himself he, Leonardo DiMontici, 7 feet 3 inches of marble art, climbed on his plinth again and resumed his original posture.

He just needed to stand and wait.

And marble art was very good at that.

There’s Whiskey in the jar – What we actually did.

After our poll you might have asked yourself what we did with the whiskey wagons in the end?

Emptied Whiskey Bottle

Well, we emptied the one that was already open as we considered the whiskey could probably evaporate over time and damage the wagon. The plug already looked a wee bit suspicious. We left the sealed bottle untouched. We didn’t accession the whiskey as we assumed that if the whiskey itself will become a subject of research, scientists could still examine the whiskey in the sealed bottle. Of course, we documented all of this in our database.

Full disclosure: Our expert on all things whiskey said it will not get better or gain more value if stored in a bottle, but he also assured us that it should still be good. Strangely enough, none of us was willing to volunteer tasting it.

There’s Whiskey in the Jar – How would you decide?

Recently, we received this railway waggon. It’s from the Jim Beam Wheel Series, Beam Trains, Caboose – Red #91197

As you probably already guessed, this waggon isn’t “innocent”. It contains a porcelain whiskey bottle (with whiskey 150 months old when bottled).

And of course, part of the whiskey is still inside.

And there’s another one from the same series which also contains whiskey – and in this case the tax seal of the bottle is still intact.

[poll id=”6″]
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Talking Museum Documentation Right Meow

For all of us working on the task to improve documentation in our museums it is often hard to get the point across to the colleagues who are not so deeply involved in the discussions about standards and long-term preservation. Maybe we are too deeply involved to make the concept clear. Maybe we have to take a different approach. Maybe we have to tell the story from a different angle. Let’s try it this way:

Who wouldn’t like to care for such a fluffy old lady?
This summer I was taking care of an elderly lady. She’s 17 years old. Well, that’s quite an age for a cat, it’s well over 80 in human years! Her owner went on vacation for two weeks, so our local catsitter association was taking over, making sure the cat could stay in her own home. Mau was a very distinguished, lovely, elderly lady, but as it inevitably comes with age, she had some medical issues. She had to take some drugs every day. Which can be a challenge already if you care for a human being. If your nursing case is a cat it can be a daunting task. And, due to some liver and kidney issues, it was very important to monitor if she was eating properly. When she refused to eat for 24 hours, it was a warning signal. Something had to be done to convince her, like opening a box of tuna. If she refused to eat for more than 48 hours, it was an emergency which needed special medication and maybe the vet.
As the owner loved his cat, he wrote down a few pages of “instruction manual” including all of the cat’s needs. It stated what drugs, how many, when and how needed to find their way inside the cat. It also stated some tricks that went well in the past, like hiding pills inside a special kind of sausage. He also held a training session before he left so we could practice the application under his supervision.
The “instruction manual” for the cat
When another catsitter and I took over, we realized from the start that we would need some way to monitor cat issues, like: has the cat taken her drugs and has she eaten properly? As one would look for the cat in the morning and one in the evening we wouldn’t see each other. As we both were working and had busy schedules, phoning was not an option. Mailing or texting seemed cumbersome and not completely reliable. So, we placed a sheet of paper in the kitchen where we could monitor the “state of cat” every day. We wrote down things like “application of kidney medication went well, but she refused to take red pill” or: “food bowl was still full”. We also used this “diary” to share some observations like “loves being brushed” and tricks like “If you hide the pill in a treat she won’t take the treat. But if you throw to her a few treats without pills and she starts eating them you can smuggle a pill into the next treat.”
The diary
As you can imagine, all went well, and we could hand over a happy, well medicated cat when the owner returned.

What does this story have to do with documentation?

Well, the underlying concept here is care. All people involved did what they did because they cared. Now, the objects in our collections are not living, purring creatures. But as we care for them, we do something very similar with documentation:

  • We make sure that everything that is important to know about our collection is stored in a central document or documents, quite like the “instruction manual” for the cat. They state what, why, when and how things have to be done. These are mainly our handling instructions and some of it might be found in our collections policy.
  • We also make sure that these documents are accessible to everybody who is involved in caring for our collections.
    In our story the “instruction manual” was stored on the kitchen table so everybody could turn to it as a reference in case of doubt. It would not have been a good solution if the owner just had handed it to both catsitters: in case one catsitter fell ill, a replacement would not have had access to the document.
  • We create possibilities to document what happened to our objects. We make sure that everybody can learn what happened when to an object, no matter if she or he works with the object in one hour or in 20 years. That’s why we take down object related information like damages, location changes, loans or conservation treatment in our object’s records, just like we did with the “diary” for the cat.
  • We use clear language and avoid slang so no matter who is reading our documentation in the future is able to understand what we mean.
  • Finally, we don’t rely on documents alone. We also hold training sessions about how to update an object record correctly and how to handle our objects.

So, next time a colleague fails to report a location change or damage, maybe don’t bore her or him with a lecture on the importance of documentation. Instead you might like to tell a story of a lovely, elderly, purring little cat.

Angela

Registrar’s Shoes – More Thoughts on Professional Footwear

Working as a registrar might require unexpected skills: Like being all dressed up for the big opening and still be able to deliver a cart of desperately needed tools to the mount-maker.
Working as a registrar might require unexpected skills: Like being all dressed up for the big opening and still be able to deliver a cart of desperately needed tools to the mount-maker.
Thanks to Lisa Kay Adam for the picture.
Three things happened in the last four weeks:

1. I changed offices and decided t get rid of my very first safety boots.
2. My current summer safety boots died the usual unpleasant death that awaits all my safety boots.
3. I re-read the piece about shoes at conferences by Janice Klein.

It inspired me to write a piece about a registrar’s working shoes. It’s the same problem like with shoes for conferences, only worse. As a registrar in a small museum you need to be one moment on the top of the ladder, exchanging the light bulb, at the next moment guiding a group of students and yet the next moment shake hands with the president of your university.

As a registrar in a larger museum, you are not really better off: You have to walk miles in the gallery spaces, again climb ladders and if you enter visitor’s spaces you should look halfway presentable.

Each task requires different clothing and it is likely that you have several working outfits in your locker. Along with them there is an army of different working shoes, from rubber boots for the annual springtime water leak in the cellar to high-heels that fit your evening dress for events. A male registrar’s arsenal might be slightly smaller, but I don’t know a single registrar who can work with just one pair of shoes.

There are some advantages of being a collections manager at a science and technology museum.
There are some advantages of being a collections manager at a science and technology museum.
As a collection manager in a science & technology museum with the history of working conditions in its mission, I’m slightly better off. I decided a long time ago that I’m a living representation of working conditions and therefore usually wear working attire no matter what (with a few exceptions, like opening ceremonies and lectures). However, this comes with a downside:

Because I wear my safety boots almost every time at work they tend to die an unpleasant death within a timespan of about a year to a year and a half. This is a problem because a the same time it’s incredibly hard to find safety boots in size 37 (U.S. size 6 1/2). My very first safety boots – the ones I ditched and which are still under consideration to be accessioned for our collection of working clothes – were 36 (5 1/2) because I couldn’t find safety boots my size on the market. The first two years of my career I worked in boots that were too small. In fact, according to a friend, they were the “cutest little safety boots I ever saw”. So, everytime a pair of boots start to show signs of weakness, I search frantically for new ones my size. An exhausting race against time.

Fortunately, this time I’m spared: my niece has exactly the same shoe size and gave me the safety boots she got for her summer job. As she graduated to become an elementary school teacher last year, she doesn’t need them anymore.

Always keep your feet on the ground!
Angela

And for your amusement: A gallery of shoes that were killed in action:

light summer safety shoe

Light summer safety shoe, bought 2015. The seam that tied the leather to the sole snapped and the leather ripped. Probably due to the stress imposed on this part of the shoe by standing on my toes frequently. To make matters worse, I often need the fine feeling of my toes to give the forklift truck the exactly right dose of gas when handling a delicate load. A former more sturdy all-year safety boot, I think it was the 2007/2008 one, died exactly the same way.

sole of a safety boot

The most common way my safety boots die is however that the sole becomes so thin that they start to leak. You usually realize this when you are standing in a puddle of water. If it’s a dry season, you realize it when you suddenly feel every stone you walk over like you walk barefoot.

hiking boot without sole

This is the shoe that died the most spectacular way. These were pretty good light hiking shoes I loved to wear when there were no heavy duty jobs that require safety boots, only light work that requires a lot of walking. In the middle of an exhibit installation in 2011 parts of the sole literally fell off.

Got boots that died a similar – or more spectacular -way? Share your photos and send them along with their story to story@museumsprojekte.de!

Itsy-bitsy climate engineer

Our education department does some activities on weather and climate this summer and asked us if we could spare a logger. Of course we could… but we also could built them a special one that measures barometric pressure, too. Who doesn’t love to learn how to do a little weather forecast by looking at the barometer? But, but, don’t we need an engineer who keeps care of that logger while it does its duty? There, we fixed it:

plastic spider on data logger
Our itsy-bitsy sensor engineer keeps quite a few eyes open…

This text is also available in Italian, translated by Silvia Telmon.

Just one of the small, hidden, big hazards

Last week our electrical devices were checked.

One of the power cables taken out of service due to the check...
One of the power cables taken out of service due to the check…

This happens regularily as safety regulations in Germany require that all equipment is safe to work with.

...it soldered itself to a three way adapter, the connection was nearly inseparable.
…it soldered itself to a three way adapter, the connection was nearly inseparable.

That’s a good thing, because you certainly don’t want to be electrocuted by a defect device, nor do you want your storage burning down because of a malfunctioning power supply. So, if this isn’t a requirement in your country, it’s maybe a good idea to let them check, anyway…

Mostly Underwhelming – A Registrar’s Month

I didn’t come to post on this blog for a whole month, mainly because I was teaching a course on Managing Previously Unmanaged Collections for Museum Study which was simply eating up all the spare time I am willing to give to museum topics while not on clock. So, I was looking back at the work I did last month.
At first, I found it disappointing. I didn’t save the world. I didn’t save the big opening. I didn’t negotiate that one important contract. Heck, I didn’t even have that one genius idea that freed up more space than expected.
Instead, it was business as usual. But then I thought, maybe that’s well worth a post. Because it is the business as usual that, in a way, is the stepping stone for others to do magnificent things. So, here we go:

20170223_135124
Radios and other home entertainment equipment selected for the move.

We are uniting our newly aquired collection of radio and broadcasting equipment with the collection we already have. This means we select what will go to a new storage space and what stays where it is.

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Packing cases folded, labeled and ready for packing.

The selection is packed, correctly labeled and the objects and boxes are tracked in the database. Note: the “real work” is done by two young emerging museum professionals. I’m just the database and logistics consultant, box provider and forklift truck driver.

Boxes packed, ready for transport.
Boxes packed, ready for transport.

I’m often smiled upon or even challenged because I insist on documenting every move of an object, even if it’s “just” from one offsite storage to another or the museum. But just this month it happened that I accidentally found an object which was missing for quite a while and suspected to be stolen. It didn’t leave its box ever. If the location of this box was correctly documented, no one would have wasted his/her precious time searching it. Seems no one ever has the 30 seconds for changing a location, but always the hours for searching.

Radios still to be processed.
Radios still to be processed.

It seems useless to bring all the radios together in one place. In the end, what is a database there for? But having them together has a lot of advantages: similar object groups have similar storage needs and are endangered by the same kind of pests. Some radios are duplicates, bringing them together at one place will help us to decide if we really need a second or third one or if we just keep the best. Finally, it’s much easier to prepare loans and exhibitions on this topic if we don’t have to go to different locations for it.

Several small bike related labels and pins.
Several small bike related labels and pins.

Our bicycle exhibition is open and doing fine, but there remained a lot of artifacts which were in the first selection but didn’t make it in the final selection. When putting them back to their original location I check the database entries and fill in what is missing. Measures, descriptions, conditions… some I sent off to our photographer to have their mugshots taken, so to speak. When preparing an exhibition there is never enough time to do this. You can only do it for the things that really go on display. By doing it now, future curators will have better data and more time for other duties.
Assmann psychrometer on a tripod.
Assmann psychrometer on a tripod.

I checked the calibration of our dataloggers with an Assmann psychrometer.
20170214_120213
I also checked the reliability of our sensors against two different salt solutions. That way we know our climate data is reliable for the moment. We will check them again every 6 months.

Roll of polyethylene tube for packing maps.
Roll of polyethylene tube for packing maps.

Together with the responsible curator I packed about 200 rolled maps. They always gave me headaches because I found no good way to store them. Then the curator took over a large collection of maps along with a wall rack designed to hang them. Because there are more hanging spaces than maps we can now store all our maps hanging.
A pallet of bagged maps.
A pallet of bagged maps.

This means that we have to bag them all and apply a hanging system for those who have no hook.
Because we will hang them high above the ground this will create free space where they were stored previously, which is great. But I can’t claim this success, as it was the idea of the curator.
Empty shelves, ready to be filled again.
Empty shelves, ready to be filled again.

So, this month passed by. Of course there were many more things to do, each underwhelming in itself, but important in the big picture.
So, as you are all struggeling with your daily underwhelming tasks, never forget that you might not save the world, but doing major improvements in the way you eat an elephant: one piece at a time.

Keep up the good work!

Angela

‘Tis the Season to be Busy…

via pixabay, OpenClipart-Vectors
via pixabay, OpenClipart-Vectors
The advent is probably a stressful time everywhere – opposed to what its original intention was. And sometimes you hear from colleagues working in other fields of the museum: “You registrars are lucky. The exhibition opening was in November and you don’t have to organize all those Christmas events…” Oh, if only it were so…

Deck the halls with boughs of holly

Christmas decoration is beautiful. But it also holds a lot of potential conflict. Of course, the decoration should not be dangerous for artifacts. Freshly cut trees from the woods can be the home of various pests, glitter has a tendency to be everywhere, especially where it’s not intended to be, and if you are watching out which materials are used in the vicinity of objects all year you are naturally suspicious about artificial snow from a spray can… It’s plain to see that the registrar is not the most loved colleague when organizing a Christmas party for the patrons of the museum.

All I want for Christmas is you (or a tax deduction)

Just before Christmas many people realize that the tax declaration for this year will be due next year. If you want a tax deduction valid for this year all the paperwork and the physical transfer of this object must be done this year. And that’s why many people want to do something good for the museum in December. The attic and grandma’s cabinet hold a large amount of valuable artifacts, that’s what the noble donor thinks. So, the registrar has to do a lot of checking, organizing transports and issuing deeds of gift.

I saw three ships on Christmas Day

Longterm loans often are issued with an end date of December 31. Now, no one wants to work on New Year’s Eve, so it’s now time for the decision if the loan period should be prolonged or if the object is returned. If it is returned, it’s naturally returned this December. If it stays where it is, the loan contract has to be prolonged. In either case it’s a job for the registrar.

Oh the weather outside is frightful…

The previous two points show that there is much transportation going on around this time of year. Unfortunately, it’s also the time when it’s winter on the Northern hemisphere. Snow, frost, wind, dead leaves… All those things that point towards leaving doors and gates shut. Unfortunately, this isn’t always possible. So the registrar keeps watching the weather reports to choose good days for transport. And he or she keeps a close eye on doors and gates to make sure they are not kept open longer than absolutely necessary – which annoys his or her colleagues who have to bring in the Christmas decoration and chairs for the Christmas party.

Christmas Lights

The days before Christmas you get together, drink some tea and eat Christmas cookies. To make it more comfortable you light a few candles – and get into trouble with your registrar who sees this as a fire hazard. Rightly so as statistics show that around Christmas the number of damages due to fire increase about 40% (in Germany, source). Pro tip: Use LED lights instead of real candles and calm the nerves of your fellow registrar with some cookies.

Along these lines I wish all colleagues a joyful pre-Christmas period despite of all the work!

Angela

This post is also available in Italian translated by Marzia Loddo.

Packing Shoes for Conferences and Other Somewhat Serious Thoughts on Professional Footwear

by Janice Klein, Executive Director, Museum Association of Arizona on June 08, 2016, originally published on the AASLH Blog

I just spent five days in Washington, D.C., at the American Alliance of Museums Annual Meeting and, while I am sure there were many things I should have been doing to prepare myself for the intensity of the information and social overload that was ahead, I found myself focusing on shoes as I prepared for the conference.

Here’s the thing about women’s shoes and conferences. You really can’t wear daytime “business” shoes for two days in a row since they are just not designed for all the walking and standing you need to do. So if you’re going to a two-day conference you need two different pairs of daytime shoes. You also need a pair of comfortable walking-around/traveling shoes, and if you’ve got an evening party you also want a pair of dressy shoes. We’re now up to four pairs of shoes for two days. Stupid, right?

shoes7To be honest there are comfortable business shoes for women, but they can be prohibitively expensive and frankly, don’t tend to be very fashionable. And yes, you can wear comfortable shoes, but no matter what color they are, they pretty much always look like comfortable shoes.

Flats in a variety of styles and colors are increasingly available, and generally are better for the walking around part (although still may not give enough support for standing for long periods of time), but when you’re only five feet tall like me, at least a little bit of heel is required to hold your own with taller colleagues.

And here’s another thing. I, like many other women—and lots of men, too—really, really like shoes. I’m sure there’s a sociological, if not psychological doctoral dissertation to be written here, but it is undeniable that shoes are fun. Honestly, would Sex and the City really have been so popular if they were all wearing running shoes the way women actually do in New York City?

shoes11For the most part my male colleagues can manage with one, or maybe two pairs of shoes, no matter how long a conference lasts. To be fair, I have noticed that men are beginning to wear comfortable shoes, too, but then again, who looks at men’s shoes? And while we’re on the subject of men’s and women’s clothing, most conference spaces set their temperature controls to be comfortable for men in suits and ties. That means the rest of us get to wear a variety of sweaters, jackets and the ever-indispensable shawl. My guess is that it is conference-going women who are responsible for the continued success of the pashmina.

Ruby-Slippers-pin-e1464901309781I have now developed the habit of laying out all the possible shoes I could wear and then slowly narrowing down my choices to a mere three or four (and the outfits that would go with them). Several years ago, when I was doing some last minute shoe-shopping I hit upon one possible solution. When asked by the eager young salesman what I was looking for, I almost said “the Ruby Slippers.” And then I realized, that was exactly what I needed. They fit Dorothy perfectly, they went with everything (although she never actually changed her clothes), were obviously comfortable enough to walk long distances and even dance in, ensured everyone’s success, and got her home safely. I never found the shoes, but I do have a Ruby Slippers pin that I wear often at conferences.

When I told people I was writing about women’ shoes and conferences, I didn’t know whether this was going to be funny, angry or satirical. So many women – and men – I talked to had their own shoe stories that I realized what I have to say is clearly affirming for me and my colleagues. So, no, it is not stupid to pack four pairs of shoes—or more—for a two-day conference. Unless, of course, you do happen to own the Ruby Slippers.

[Editor’s note: The author has provided supporting evidence in the form of pictures of AAM attendees’ feet. These can be seen below.]