Most people think they know the story. Girl gets lost, girl kills a witch, girl clicks her heels. But when you actually dig into the history of the ruby red slippers shoes from the 1939 MGM classic The Wizard of Oz, things get weird. Fast. We aren't just talking about a pair of pretty pumps used in a movie. We are talking about a multi-million dollar FBI investigation, a secret stash of silver paint, and a pair of shoes that literally changed how Hollywood does business.
They are iconic. No doubt. But they were never supposed to be red. In L. Frank Baum’s original book, Dorothy Gale actually wore silver shoes. Why the change? Technicolor. MGM was pouring a massive budget into this "new" color process and they needed something that popped against the yellow brick road. Silver was too dull. Red was vibrant. So, the costume department started gluing thousands of sequins onto silk pumps. It sounds simple, but it created a legacy that still drives collectors insane today.
The Heist at the Judy Garland Museum
Let's talk about the 2005 robbery because it's honestly wild. A pair of the ruby red slippers shoes was on loan to the Judy Garland Museum in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. A guy named Terry Martin smashed a window, broke a plexiglass case, and just... walked away with them. He thought they were encrusted with real rubies. They weren't. They were glass and sequins. For 13 years, those shoes vanished.
The FBI finally recovered them in 2018 during a sting operation in Minneapolis. Martin, who was in his 70s by then, eventually confessed. It turns out, the "greatest movie prop heist in history" was basically a huge mistake by a former mob associate who didn't realize movie magic is mostly smoke and mirrors. He couldn't sell them. Nobody would touch them. You can't exactly walk into a pawn shop with the most famous shoes in the world and expect a quiet transaction.
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How Many Ruby Red Slippers Shoes Actually Exist?
There isn't just one pair. Movies need backups. If Judy Garland tripped or a sequin fell off, production couldn't just stop for the day. While nobody knows the exact number for sure, five pairs are widely acknowledged by historians and curators.
The "People’s Pair" lives at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History. If you've ever seen them there, you might have noticed they look a little different from each other. They’re actually a mismatched pair. One is a size 5B, the other is a 5C. It’s widely believed that during the chaotic filming schedule, different pairs got swapped around, and these two just ended up together. They are faded now. The light from decades of display has turned the deep crimson into a sort of brownish-orange. It's a reminder that even the most legendary props are just fabric and glue at the end of the day.
Another pair belongs to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. This set was purchased for roughly $2 million back in 2012. Interestingly, Leonardo DiCaprio and Steven Spielberg were among the group of donors who pooled their money to make sure the Academy got them. Then there's the "Witch’s Pair," which are the ones you see on the feet of the Wicked Witch of the East when the house lands on her. These are kept in a private collection.
The Science of the Sparkle
You might think they just used standard sequins. Not quite. The shoes were designed by Gilbert Adrian, MGM’s chief costume designer. He didn't just want them to be red; he wanted them to glow. To achieve that, they used a very specific type of sequin—dark red glass beads sewn onto fine silk.
Underneath the sequins, the shoes were actually dyed red. This was a fail-safe. If a sequin fell off, the red fabric underneath would hide the gap. Even more interesting? The soles. On most of the surviving pairs, the soles are covered in felt. This was a trick to muffle the sound of Judy Garland’s footsteps on the wooden Yellow Brick Road set. Without the felt, her dancing would have sounded like a rhythmic clomping that the microphones would have picked up.
There was also a test pair created early on called the "Arabian" style. They had curled toes and were much more ornate. Ultimately, the producers decided they were too distracting and went with the classic pump shape we see today. That discarded pair is now a holy grail for collectors, worth an astronomical amount if it ever hit the open market.
Why the Market for Movie Props Is So Volatile
If you want to buy a pair of ruby red slippers shoes today, you better have a few million dollars and some very good lawyers. The value of movie memorabilia has skyrocketed because of "emotional investing." People aren't just buying shoes; they are buying a piece of their childhood.
But it's risky. Authentication is a nightmare. Because there were multiple pairs and several "test" versions, the market is rife with fakes. Experts like Rhys Thomas, who wrote The Ruby Slippers of Oz, have spent years tracking the provenance of these items. They look for specific "tells"—the way the sequins are stitched, the specific brand of the base shoe (usually Innes Shoe Co.), and even the wear patterns on the inside.
One of the most famous pairs was found by a costumer named Kent Warner in 1970. He was cleaning out the MGM basement before a massive auction. He found several pairs and, essentially, kept the best ones for himself while selling others. For years, the history of who owned what was a tangled web of private handshakes and secret vault storage.
Keeping the Red Alive
If you own a piece of Hollywood history, you can't just leave it on a shelf. Light is the enemy. Humidity is the enemy. Oxygen is the enemy. The Smithsonian actually ran a Kickstarter campaign a few years ago to raise money for a specialized climate-controlled case. They needed to study the chemical breakdown of the plastics in the sequins.
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Essentially, the shoes are slowly eating themselves. The cellulose nitrate in the sequins breaks down over time, releasing gases that can damage the rest of the shoe. It’s a race against time. Conservators use microscopic analysis to ensure the colors don't fade further. It's a weird irony: the shoes that helped make Dorothy's journey immortal are themselves very much mortal.
The Cultural Weight of a Pair of Heels
Why do we care? It’s just footwear.
Honestly, it’s about what they represent. In 1939, the world was on the brink of World War II. The Wizard of Oz was a Technicolor dream that told people there was a way home, even when things got dark. The shoes were the key. They weren't just a fashion choice; they were a symbol of agency. Dorothy didn't need a wizard. She had the power all along.
That's why people cry when they see them at the Smithsonian. That's why people steal them. They are a physical connection to a moment in cinema history where everything felt possible. They represent the transition from the "dust bowl" sepia reality to the vibrant, colorful world of imagination.
Spotting a Real Replica
If you're a fan looking to buy a high-quality replica, don't get scammed by cheap Halloween store versions. Real collectors look for very specific details.
- The Bow: It’s not just a red bow. It’s a stiffened leather or buckram base covered in orange-red glass beads and three types of sequins.
- The Sequins: Authentic 1930s-style sequins were slightly larger and more translucent than the modern metallic ones you see today.
- The Heel: The heel is relatively short, around two inches. It’t a practical dance heel, not a stiletto.
- The Color: It’s a "deep burgundy" more than a "bright fire-engine red." In person, they look much darker than they do on screen.
Actionable Steps for Oz Enthusiasts
If you want to experience the history of these shoes without becoming a high-stakes art thief, there are better ways.
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First, visit the Smithsonian National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C. It’s free, and seeing the "People’s Pair" is a bucket-list item for any film buff. Just be prepared for them to look smaller than you expect. Judy Garland was only a teenager, after all.
Second, if you're interested in the "whodunnit" aspect, look into the documentary The Slippers. It does a great job of detailing the hunt for the stolen pair and the eccentric characters who have owned them over the years.
Finally, keep an eye on the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures in Los Angeles. They often rotate their collection, and their pair is in significantly better condition than the one in D.C.
The story of the ruby red slippers shoes isn't over. As long as there are people who want to "go home again," these shoes will remain the most valuable and debated props in existence. They are a mix of high art, clever engineering, and pure nostalgia. Whether they are sitting in a museum vault or being chased by the FBI, they still have that magic. You just have to know where to look.
To truly understand the legacy, start by researching the Gilbert Adrian sketches. Seeing the transition from the "Arabian" concept to the final design shows just how much work goes into creating an icon. Look for high-resolution archival photos from the 1970 MGM auction catalogs to see the shoes before they underwent modern conservation. This gives you the best perspective on how they've aged over the last eighty-plus years.