Monday night. Sad and blue. I sat at my laptop and pondered over amazon.com for the millionth time. When I did a little bit of shopping before Small Brother came (so he could bring the loot, mulelike, through the sky to our door) my finger slipped and I found myself browsing the boots on sale. For of course, it’s heading into Summer in the US and all the Winter stuff is being marked down.
Boots. The last time I bought a pair of Brand. New. Boots. was in around 1999. Dr Marten black suede boots, on sale at a probably now defunct surf shop in Williamstown and a pair of cherry ones a year or so later on sale in Prahran on my birthday. My aunt bought me a pair of chunky black syntheticky kind of boots when I was in Boston in 2001, which I love… I have alternated between the two black pairs ever since, whilst the cherry pair get used for gardening and renovating.
My black suede DM’s have done serious miles. They have clocked up, I estimate, at least four years of full time wear in the ten or so years I’ve had them. Many gigs, several states, a couple of countries. And they look practically unscathed. This probably contributes to the lack of new boots in my life – if they had disintegrated, I would have felt compelled to replace them.
Anyway, in my slump on Monday night I considered all of the above. I also took into consideration my pregnant condition, my impending end of Winter/start of Spring baby and my dodgy back and leg. I do prefer a bit of a heel, but decided I could forgo that if I found boots that were both flat and cool. I began prowling around the Camper section, but none of the shapes of the toes appealed. I ended up drooling over El Naturalista.
On sale. Obviously. The Australian dollar is good, but it’s not that good. And it’s not like I had the cash, it was more a case of flexing my recently rediscovered credit card and hoping for a birthday cash injection to cover it in a few weeks time. Or so I hypothesise. Anyway, after dithering for ages, and hoping I’d got the sizing right, I bought a pair of New BOOTS.
And get this. That was on Monday night. In Melbourne. My boots arrived today. Friday. Lunchtime. Today. Internet, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways… (They arrived along with the two cds I added in at the last second. Volume Two from She and Him, and the self-titled album from Broken Bells – I would follow James Mercer anywhere).
Mmmm. This picture does them far more justice than the ones I tried to take myself this afternoon. And yes. I can hear L thinking “Brown? Brown!?”. Ordinarily I go for black. No question. But when opting for the brown saves me $150, then I’m happy with brown. More than. Of course, the first thing I realised was that I do not own one single pair of socks. Nada, none. I pranced around in them regardless. “Good boots, Mama!” chirped Small Z, on cue.
Now that I’ve been food shopping, and schlepped three pairs of new black socks into the trolley, I have them on my feet as they should be. I can’t raise my left big toe for a wiggle because that weird nerve is still squashed in my hip somewhere, and the whole foot is still kind of numb. But my right foot? It feels like I just put on an old favourite pair of slippers. Yeah baby!!