I have many materialistic loves. This post is about boots.
Part 1: Baby Cowboy Boots
It's tough to say when my love affair with boots started. My first boots were cowboy boots. Mama bought them for me to wear to Jordan's brother's Bar Mitzvah. They were adorable -- miniature distressed brown leather. I even remember the dress I wore: denim, with sparkly appliques. I danced until my feet fell off, and then some more. I just remember thinking, "These boots are amazing. I must keep dancing." I was 9. Even then I could sense that with great boots came great responsibility.
Part 2: Black knee-high boots-- Why don't you buy them both?
The next thing I remember probably happened my freshman year of college. I was at the Burlington Mall with my mother, and I couldn't decide between a pair of chunky black boots, or stiletto black boots. My mother said the magic words: Why don't you buy them both? I'm pretty sure those words were followed with "Then you can return a pair later once you have a few days to think about it" but I have no recollection of this. When it comes to boots, I hear what I want to hear.
Part 3: Point of No Return
My love was solidified by two events that happened in spring 2006.
1. While living abroad, I flew to Stockholm, and realized the full potential of snow boots (ugg-style, but not real uggs obviously).
2. Right after I moved back to the states, my mom took me to a shoe sale at Building 19. I was an expert at the whole "show up hours early, get a number, wait in line, rush the door" thing in the context of U2 concerts with Conor, but doing all this in the name of beautiful shoes was new to me. That day, I welcomed two new men into my life: Franco Sarto (black cowboy boots), Salvatore Ferragamo (sparkly gold and pink pumps).
That shoe sale was amazing because it taught me how to really work for what you love. It might not be easy to find incredible boots in your price range, but it doesn't mean it's impossible. It just means you have to go to strange lengths to acquire them. I'm sure rich people don't have to stand in line for boots, but they probably don't have cool stories to tell about those lines, so... I win. Sidenote: A woman tried to pickpocket my number out of my back pocket when she thought I wasn't looking. This marked the first (but not last) time I almost got into a fist fight over footwear.
Part 4: If I hadn't bought those boots, my life would not be the same.
Have you ever experienced this? You see something, and you spend about 15 minutes debating whether or not to buy it. You end up buying it, and several months later, you remember how hesitant you were, and you think, "Oh my GOD if I hadn't bought those boots my life would SUCK I can't believe I hesitated at all!"
That's how I feel about my black suede slouchy boots. It was my second year of teaching. By that point, Mr. Sarto was a regular presence in my wardrobe. I still wear those boots at least once a week. $75 well-spent.
Part 5: Refusing to settle for anything less than butterflies.
I have nothing against the boots from Target. In fact, many of them are quite beautiful. I own about 4 pairs of flats from Target, and I'm pretty sure my F-uggs are from Target as well. But when it comes to me and boots, it took me over a year to admit that Target boots will never give me butterflies.
God knows I was tempted. I wanted cowboy boots so badly it was almost painful. I saw them everywhere in every style in every color. I tried them on several times. But my mother's words rang in my head: Spend your calories on quality, not quantity. I of course took this past the obvious food meaning and applied it to boots: Better to have 4 pairs of incredible, expensive boots than 8 pairs of cheap ok boots.
Several times I came close to purchasing boots that weren't "THE ONES." I would try to remember that Sex and the City quote about refusing to settle for anything less than butterflies, but then other Sex and the City quotes would crowd my head, like "I'm searching for Mr. Right Now" and my heart became confused.
Last December, my family and I were eating at a Jew place in Cleveland when I had this feeling that something incredible was about to happen. If you swing that way, you're welcome to insert the whole imprinting/true love description from the Twilight books, because it was fairly similar. I was drawn to the TJ Maxx next door. I turned to my family and said, "I'll be back," and then bolted out the door. It's difficult to describe other than to say that I knew something amazing was waiting for me. I just knew.
I sprinted through the aisles, probably knocking down old ladies and children and not noticing. When I saw them, my legs turned to goo I was so happy. Born brown cowboy boots, knee-high, stacked heel, one embellishment (a buckle, simple, not too flashy). I just knew in that moment that it was meant to be. I tried them on and squealed like a lunatic. I then proceeded to jump up and down and twirl around like a drunk ballerina.
At this point, two things happened.
1. My mother walked into the store and said, "OOh, let me see!"
2. My father walked into the store, took one look at me, said, "I'll be in the car," turned around and left.
Part 6: Long-term potential / Cole Haan = love
A few weeks ago, my internal boot alarm began to go off. I'm not sure how to describe it other than to say it's probably identical to whatever tells birds to migrate south for the winter. It's a survival instinct. Maybe I have a sixth sense. I don't know. What I do know is that suddenly, I was stopping random people in the street and asking them where their boots were from. Suddenly, I was spending my lunch surfing Zappos.com.
Around this time, my best friend Ali invited me to go to Black Friday with her. I've been trying to go to Black Friday for my entire life, but I've never been able to get up in time. I've also never been to Wrentham (in 16 years of living in Boston... I know... Shameful). Luckily, Wrentham Outlets solved that problem for me: MIDNIGHT MADNESS! I'm not sure who thought opening a massive outlet mall at midnight was a good idea, but THAT PERSON DESERVES A PRIZE. Can't wake up to go shopping early? NEVER GO TO BED. PULL AN ALL-NIGHTER INSTEAD. Sometimes, I'm so amazed by how thoughtful businesses are. Not only did I get to stay up until sunrise shopping, I had a built-in reason to NOT stuff myself on Thanksgiving. If I was in a food coma, I wouldn't win in the likely event that I had to fight a bitch over a pair of Cole Haan boots.
No, I have no idea where the Cole Haan boots idea came from. As soon as I looked up the directory and saw that a store was there, I just knew. I should mention that at some point along this bootlove journey, my mother introduced me to the wonder that is Cole Haan. I still have the first pair of pumps she bought me, and I still wear them, despite the fact that they are worn into the ground.
First I should explain my reaction to driving into the Wrentham Outlets. The first words out of my mouth were "OMG ALI YOU HAVE TO DRIVE I'M TOO EXCITED I'M GONNA CRASH." I giggled crazily and started bouncing around in the driver's seat. I hate this phrase, but truly, excitement bubbled up inside me. The moment I saw the big blue signs I was struck with the wonder of the place. I am the 99% but on this night, because of this wondrous place and its wondrous sales, I GET TO BUY THE 1%'S COLE HAAN BOOTS! OCCUPY WRENTHAM OUTLETS PEOPLE!
I frowned at the Coach line (500 people probably) and at the Uggs line (even longer) and thought, "I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON'T KNOW!" Cole Haan beats both Coach and Uggs. It's not even a contest. It's like playing rock/paper/scissors and BOOM there's a grenade. Cole Haan always wins.
Then I saw them, surrounded by warmth and light. It was a completely different experience from the Born cowboy boots. Those were lust. These were love. I saw myself years down the road wearing these boots. I saw long-term potential. I saw a future with these boots. I had to have them.
They are beautiful. I don't know where to begin to describe them. It's probably useless because this is so long and rambly that I'm the only one who will read it, but I'll try.
Perfect honey brown.
Waterproof to military standards.
Tweed on the inside (in case you want to fold them down).
Nike air in the soles (did you know that Nike bought Cole Haan? I didn't..).
AAAAAAA;DLFKJAF;DLALS;AFJSA
There aren't words.
I can't even finish this blog I have to go stare at them bye
No comments:
Post a Comment