TILT: Boots!

('things i love thursdays' swiped from weaker vessel) I can’t put my finger on when I fell in love with boots. the first pair I remember owning were brown leather lace-up flats, back in middle school. My dad had recently been to europe, where he said all the girls were wearing them, and that was good enough for me. I wore the soles out in a couple short years, then moved on to a black pair that were less “pretty” but more functional, meaning more excuses to wear them. I eventually had that pair resoled, but they were never quite the same. Perhaps I just took them to a bad cobbler (do they still call them that?), but since then I’ve never bothered resoling a single pair... Those black lace-ups could probably write a horrid, angsty teen novel (or afterschool special) about all the things they witnessed, but the pair I found to replace them would write the R-rated sequel. They became my all-time favorites. Simple, clunky, and the most comfortable shoes of any kind that I’d ever worn, they were made by Muro, with Goodyear technology (whatever that means) in the soles. They were not particularly attractive, according to fashion standards, but that didn’t stop me from wearing them to a friend’s wedding with a pale pink dress. (I added a black boa to the neckline of the dress in a silly attempt to tie the colors in, but alas...) These new loves had a buckle instead of laces to reflect my spiral into laziness, but were otherwise not much different than my previous pairs. When the sole of those puppies finally broke in half, I honestly wasn’t sure how I’d live without them. They were my go-to shoes. I’m not sure I owned anything else in the mid 90s that had closed toes. My “old faithfuls” took me across the country, up mountains, through torrents of water, and cushioned my feet through years of waiting tables. I was in the middle of a waitressing shift when they died. I tried superglue and a vise, but alas, they had reached retirement age. That was four years ago, and I’ve still not been able to part with them, despite their uselessness. I keep thinking one of these days I’ll find a pair just like them on ebay... In 1997 or so, I found their knee-high counterparts, same brand, at zipperhead in philadelphia. They only had one pair left, and it happened to be in my size. They were almost $200 and worth every penny. I still wear them today. I was in philly to see chris whitley and meet a new friend, and the boots were the cherry on top of one of the best trips ever. I was so enamored with them that despite the fact that I was travelling by train and already loaded down with luggage, I decided that I simply must save the box they came in. (knee-high boot boxes are necessarily bulky.) chris saw me carrying it around and accused me of being a bit obsessed with boots, and I defensively mumbled something about my love of boxes. Perhaps that was the moment when the boot love turned into something more. Around 2000, even before the “old faithfuls” died, I bought a pair of inferior knee-highs on ebay that are cosmetically very similar to the Muros, as a backup, but they sit lonely and unworn on the boot shelf. They’re just not the same. One of the best deals I ever got on a pair of boots were these tony lamas, which were less than $20 at a salvation army in richmond. They fit perfectly with socks and for some reason make me want to shoot pool. My most obnoxious pair also hail from philly, at a place called guacamole, across south street from zipperhead. I took a trip to new york with some of my favorite friends, and I fully intended to buy a new pair of boots while there, but I failed on that point (though the rest of the trip more than made up for that lack), so we stopped at south street on the drive home, and I found these leopard(?) print goofballs for about $35. I’ve only worn them a handful of times in the 8 years or so that I’ve owned them... one of those times was the birthday night that I picked up an NBA boy as my gift. Two pairs of shoes have earned peripheral space on the boot shelf. These oxfords, which are much more beautiful than the picture suggests, hail from trash & vaudeville in new york. On a trip with The Boy, we were looking for a pair of oxblood oxfords for him, but these were marked down from $125 to about $30, so he bought them for me. I’ve only worn them twice. They’re just not very comfortable. The other shoes on the shelf were also a gift from The Boy. My former roommate went to europe and brought me back a couple pairs of striped thigh high socks, so we went on a search to find shoes to go with them. I tried on dozens of variations on mary janes til we found these. next week: Boxes.