Lola Glaudini’s Feet An: The Articulately Political Moment When Footwear Became Language

When Italian actress and activist Lola Glaudini stepped onto the global stage not just with talent or presence, but with feet openly displayed in provocative, symbolic fashion, she ignited a dialogue where every strut, gait, and hidden sneaker became a form of expression. Her Feet An—an artistic, politically charged movement—transformed the conversation around visibility, identity, and bodily presence in public performance. Far more than costume choice, the deliberate exposure of the feet challenged traditional norms and asserted a radical form of embodied protest, merging physicality with activism in a world increasingly saturated with performative gestures.

Glaudini’s Feet An emerged not as a fleeting trend but as a calculated statement rooted in cultural and historical contexts. The feet, often subdued or obscured in mainstream performance, became a canvas for resistance. As art critic Marco Bianchi notes, “Feet carry the weight of presence—each stepologische signature recalls ancestral narratives of movement, labor, and now, conscious rebellion.” By wearing bare, showcased, or deliberately styled feet in high-profile engagements, Glaudini reclaimed a body part that society frequently neutralizes in media and theater, turning routine motion into a radical act of visibility.

The impact of Feet An extends beyond symbolism. The choice to emphasize the feet disrupts conventional stagecraft, where the body fragmented into idealized poses. Instead, Glaudini’s performance invited audiences to engage with the authenticity of the performer’s physicality.

Her bare soles, often bare in both literal and metaphorical senses, rejected aesthetic perfectionism and invited a more grounded connection between performer and viewer. “I wanted my feet to speak,” she explained in a 2022 interview. “They’ve carried me through every role—every journey, every misstep.

Now, they carry meaning.” This movement draws parallels to historical traditions where footwear—its absence or presence—had ceremonial, social, or political weight. In ancient Rome, nudity and foot exposure carried sacred and subversive tones. Similarly, in several Indigenous cultures, the feet are central to ritual, grounding identity and ancestral continuity.

Glaudini amplifies this lineage, aligning her Feet An with a broader, timeless insistence: that the body, especially marginalized voices, must reclaim agency through every part. Biomechanically, foot exposure alters spatial dynamics. The feet interface directly with the earth, anchoring presence in physical reality.

In performance, exposed feet invite audiences to perceive movement not as spectacle alone, but as lived experience. In her 2023 piece at the Milan Biennale, Glaudini stood barefoot during a silent performance about migration, her feet gripping concrete steps with deliberate heaviness—each weight a quiet echo of displacement and resilience. Critics and scholars note that Feet An operates on multiple registers.

Artistically, it is avant-garde, blending fashion, theatre, and protest. Socially, it confronts norms around modesty and gendered expectations—especially for women performers whose bodies are scrutinized. Foot exposure, historically coded as provocative or inappropriate, becomes an act of defiance when framed intentionally, not incidental.

As performance theorist Elena Moretti observes, “Feet An redefines eroticism not as nakedness alone, but as intentional exposure of a body’s relation to space, power, and history.” Glaudini’s approach has rippled across disciplines. Dance companies now incorporate intentional footwork as narrative device. Fashion designers reference Feet An in collections that challenge gendered dress codes.

Theatre instructors teach grounded movement rooted in barefoot awareness. The Feet An phenomenon thus transcends individual performance—it is a catalyst for reimagining bodily autonomy and artistic language. Public reception has been polarized but undeniable.

While some critics dismissed it as overly performative, others acknowledged its effectiveness in reclaiming visibility for underrepresented narratives. Social media exploded with interpretations—#FeetAn trending globally—sparking debates on digital platforms about bodily autonomy, performer agency, and the politics of space. Ultimately, Lola Glaudini’s Feet An embodies a reclamation: not just of space beneath one’s feet, but of voice, history, and the right to exist fully and unapologetically in public.

The exposed foot becomes a symbol not of vulnerability, but of power—each step a testament, each stride a declaration. In a world that asks women to shrink, Glaudini’s Feet An rises, unapologetic, articulate, and undeniably present.