Not me. But my mother used to beat me with a shoe. Does that count? Kidding.
Same here. I still have my Stride Rite shoes with metal bar holding them about 1’ apart. As an infant I wore them only at night. As I became more mobile I wore them during teh day also. I do know that I was completely out of them by the time I was a year and a half. To “further correct” my poor peds, I was enrolled in dance to learn how to move less clumsily.
Anyone else remember when the Stride Rite stores had cool play areas? Ours had the cab part of a fire truck that we could play on. I also remember them knowing us by name. ~shrug~
Me too. Can you turn your affected foot backwards? I still can.
My left leg was turned inward so I had a cast on it as soon as I was able to crawl, which was in 1967. That seems sort of Dickensian.
I used to be able to turn it inward and completely backward–so that my left foot was parallel with my right foot–in some sort of Exorcist-like freak maneuver but I had knee surgery in 1998 to replace my ACL and I can’t turn it backwards anymore.
My brother had casts and multiple surgeries on both legs and spent a good six months in a wheelchair when he was a kid–he wasn’t supposed to be able to run, ever, but of course they were wrong–he’s an excellent athlete–he was born in 1956.
Yup. It was a big thing in the 60’s, and still persisted into the 70’s. Nowadays, it’s hardly ever considered needed by doctors familiar with current research. Casting is occasionally still needed for one specific type of intoeing that shows up in the first year of life, but the vast majority of intoeing and flat-feet need no special shoe or bracing or other gear.
According to this orthopedic site,“Corrective shoes are a misnomer. They are rarely indicated in children for intoeing or for flat feet.”
Huh…I can’t turn it all the way backwards, but I can rotate my (affected) right foot a good 3-4 inches further clockwise than I can rotate my left foot counter-clockwise.
I thought so. Our babysitter, who is about my mom’s age, was scandalized that we didn’t buy shoes for our kids until they started walking outside a lot. She was certain their feet were going to be deformed by running around loose like that. I just let it go–she wouldn’t have been interested in my “millions of years of evolution” arguments anyway.
I had underdeveloped leg muscles. I had to visit the nurse several times and lift weights that were placed over my ankles.
If years of bracing (for scoliosis) and finally a fusion (no rods) of most of my spine followed by six months in a body cast which, thank Og, was from chest to hips so I could walk and six more months in my last brace count, then yes, I too was corrected. I was just shy of ten when I had the surgery, too.
You oughta see my spine x-rays. They’re weird and surreal.
Yeah, I probably should have mentioned in the linked thread that in addition to flat feet I also have knock-knees. Not too bad, but noticeable if I’m barelegged. 
Despite all the money spent on my orthotics and trips to paediatric orthopedic specialists during my childhood (late 80s-early 90s), I still have flat feet and knock knees. I think that one condition is a cause of the other condition, since they often seem to go together.
I was born in 1973 and so early that my hip sockets didn’t form all the way. Specifically, the sockets are too shallow, so my hips readily pop out. I was born weighing 3lb, 11 oz, screaming my head off, but with the right hip out. I was placed in this brace that in effect pulled my knees up to my chin. I was in the contraption until I was 2. As a result of the brace, I was pigeon toed; this was remedied by placing my shoes on the “wrong” feet.
I have a slight limp, but it’s only really noticeable when I am tired. The toes turn inward when I am tired too. The muscle structure around my hips basically keeps them in place. They still pop out, the right more than the left. When they do go out, it’s a painful experience.
I was born in 1961, and I have completely flat feet. No arch whatsoever. My wet footprints look like duck footprints.
My father also had flat feet, and wore super-duper arch supports for as long as I knew him. (We haven’t really spoken much in the last ten years, so I don’t know if he still uses them.)
I wore orthopedic shoes with super-duper arch supports until I was ten or eleven years old or so. I think it was in large part because my parents simply believed that I could not possibly be “normal” without arches in my feet, but also because my father’s doctors had somehow convinced him that flat feet were not normal, and should be fixed at any and all costs.
I do remember the day though when the orthopedist told my mother that she could officially stop hoping that I would get arches in my feet, so orthopedic shoes really weren’t necessary. The doctor did advise me to always chose shoes with flexible soles, and to avoid high heels, but told me that I could also wear any shoe that I wanted to wear from then on out.
I generally wear pumps for work, and tennis shoes for play. The last time I wore heels (about 30 years ago, I think), I fell down a flight of stairs and broke a toe, so I don’t own any high-heeled shoes anymore at all. I had major hip problems in my teens, but I think that was a direct result of the orthopedic shoes I wore when I was growing up, and the hip problems have completely disappeared now. I do have major bunions, but as long as I insist on wearing wide, comfortable shoes, they don’t bother me too much.
Our daughter got arches from her father (whose arches are as high as mine are flat), but our son has my flat feet (or nearly so). Since he has other more serious birth defects, we did ask an orthopedist at one point if we should consider using corrective shoes, and the answer was basically no, unless it becomes obvious that our son has pain or other problems with his feet. Flat feet are now seen as part of the natural scope of feet shape, with no real need for correction. However, I have already told our son (now 10yo) that if he wants to wear heels, it will be HIS money and HIS risk. 
I believe that figure skater Kristi Yamaguchi was born with her feet turned in towards each other.
My mom has this too, in my original 1973 baby bag in the attic with all the other crap too special to throw out. My little bar thingie had baby-sized c-clamps at either end so shoes could be put in and taken out as the occasion called for, I suppose. It’s funny, though - in my baby pictures, my feet don’t look wonky at all. Except for one, where I look like a tiny bowlegged cowboy in a red dress and red stockings.
Born in 1949 and yep, pigeon-toed. In the late 1950s/early 1960s taken to a specialist who decreed arch supports, which my younger brother and I wore for several years. We also had exercises - picking up marbles with our feet and putting them in a coffee can. To this day, I can still pick up some items (towels, clothing on the floor, marbles) with my feet.
I keep trying to think of a scene in an action movie that will require the hero to escape from the villian by use of this arcane ability…
Ditto.
Born in 1959 and wore a cast as an infant then corrective shoes for several years. How I hated saddle shoes.
I don’t remember what it is that was wrong with me, but I wore a harness thing for a while as a baby, as seen in this picture. That fixed the problem, but I knew a girl in elementary school who had the same thing but hadn’t had it fixed as a baby, and she had to have surgery and a big cast on her legs for a while. Eep.
(I was born in 1986.)
I am told that I had some sort of leg problem when I was a baby, and I had to wear braces of some sort while still in the crib. Of course, I have no memory of it. Really surprised me when my brother told me he remembers the braces.
Yep! Corrective shoes for about four years, and a leg brace for a year or so, because I was very pigeon-toed. (And, as has been observed, I’m also knock-kneed. I never noticed any correlation between the two features, but that’s probably because my sibs were both very knock-kneed too, but neither had foot problems… we just had a knock-kneed father!) I vividly remember hating, hating, hating those dad-blamed shoes, and my mother swears that I’m the only child she ever knew who could ball her foot up into a “fist” to avoid having those torture devices shoved on my poor little tootsies.
Thirty years later, I see three results: I flatly refused to buy those white baby high tops for my own kids; my mother still nags me (and my pediatrician, if I’m not looking) to put her grandbabies into shoes to “correct” their every foot idiosyncracy; and I will happily abandon a pair of shoes whenever and wherever, if they make my feet hurt. (When I asked Doc about my daughter’s slightly inturned left foot, he told me to let her run barefooted.)
Welcome to the boards, First Lady of Infinity.
throws the switch on the tractor-beam to slowly suck her into Cecil’s clutches
Hold still. This will only hurt for a second…