When you're treated like you should be

Today's post about socks from way back in 2009 is at Toxophily.



Sock weather is almost over, and sandal weather is beginning. Just in time, too, because my beloved Born clogs have a worn-through footpad. One hopes that such shoes would be on sale this time of year. I also get another chance to get the size right; last time I bought shoes that I wanted to wear mostly with handknit socks, I overestimated the amount of extra room those socks needed. I would have done better with a snugger fit, something I'll try to remember when I go to the store.

Today I am a ham

Yesterday in a fit of whimsey -- or a fit of having an unscheduled hour toward the end of the day -- I decided the moment was right for the buying of boots.

Longtime readers will know that I have a Boot Problem. I know that I need to to ask boots to come into my life. I know that boots will be just what I need. But boots are alien to my lifestyle. I don't know how to shop for them. The boxes are so big, and the prices are so daunting. Every time I looked at boots, I ended up confused and bootless.

But it was clear to me for the first time this weekend that fall was really coming. Monday was cool -- so much so that I was hesitant sending the kids off to walk to school without jackets. I had told myself during the two weeks of rain that just ended that I wasn't going to get complacent about sunshine again. No more wishing I had bought boots before I needed them, then suffering without them because I didn't prepare.

So I left work with a new determination. It felt like Boot Time. And at the big shoe mall (slogan: "It's an anomaly!"), there were boots everywhere when I walked in. I fondled the suede Uggs, but I knew that suede wouldn't give me the weather resistance I needed. These weren't fashion boots. These were work boots.

Two or three aisles later, I was back at a familiar spot for me -- the Born section. Seems like most shoes I buy are Borns. They have a chunky aesthetic. They're made for walking, not standing around looking pretty. The leather is durable and rustic.

A few minutes later, these boots were on my feet. The heel is low -- walkability. The material is soft and matte finish -- functional, not fashionable. Comfort was the clear watchword, but with my calves encased in leather for the first time in decades, I felt unaccountably daring.

Thanks to my frequent-customer card, almost one-third was knocked off the price. Glowing with boot success, I took my savings and cleaned out Tuesday Morning's bin of Patons SWS ($1.99 a ball) and Elizabeth Austen Antuco ($3.99 a skein).

When I woke up this morning, the weather station said that it was 54 degrees outside. A real cool fall morning. If I were to walk to class, my options would be pants and my Born clogs, or a skirt and ... my Born boots. Yes, I broke them in today -- walking to work and back and all over campus. I felt like a superheroine -- a very comfortable, ready-for-anything superheroine. I have converted. I am a boot person.

Women be shoppin'!

It's a whole new world out there when your children are headed into the public school system. There are Requirements unthought of by the preschool parent. Specifically, the Requirement that students show up for twice-weekly physical education classes wearing sneakers.

Cady Gray lives her life in Crocs. She started in Robeez, graduated to Pedoodles, and then I bought a cheap pair of used Crocs at a consignment sale. It's been all Crocs ever since. She has two pair that fit currently. It's frankly been hard for me to imagine that she'd ever need to wear anything else, at least until she got married.

I didn't take P.E. into account, obviously.

So today she and I went shoe shopping, embarking on a ritual that has united mother and daughter since the dawn of the fashion industry. Well, it didn't unite my mother and I, because I had to wear orthopedic shoes until high school (or so it seemed to me). I'll never forget my grief at being denied saddle oxfords on the grounds that they wouldn't give me any arch support.

Given that I've been letting my child get by with Crocs for the past couple of years, it's clear that arch support is not high on my list of priorities. But I did find myself taking some interest in her choice of sneaker. I tried my best to steer her away from pink (we ended with sparkly blue). Easy velcro closure, of course. And I thought something with a bit more of an athletic shoe appearance might be better than the fabric-topped Keds type, although I'm probably fooling myself about the sporting benefits of the Sketchers we bought. I talked her down from the $50 Nikes that were her first choice, so it seems that space-age technology and pro-sports testing aren't really my priorities for a five-year-old's footwear.

Meanwhile, I had shoe needs, too, that I wanted to solve on this trip. Winter is here, and I was without a utilitarian yet reasonably professional pair of black mules. Thankfully the season's shipment of Born shoes had just arrived, and though I dithered over size (having to factor in room for the handknit socks, of course), I found just what I needed. We paid our bill with a sense of accomplishment and the special bliss that comes from shoe buying.

Yet I admit that I am still badly in need of boots. I have no shoes that can be worn in chilly weather with skirts, and I'm unwilling to completely cede my wardrobe to pants for several months a year. The selection of boots at the store was both daunting (in price) and uninspiring (in style). Where would you go to buy boots? What brands and styles work best? Advice, please!

For miles and miles

Ever since my travels to Denmark and Chicago last month, I've realized that knee-high boots are not a luxury item, but an essential. The streets were full of women who know cold weather and style, and a lot of them were sporting boots.

I've never owned a pair of boots that weren't cowboy in nature. And although I've coveted the panache of the boot-wearing woman -- the way she strides through life, the way she's not shy about wearing skirts and showing her knees -- I never thought I could be her. I'm not a dashing person. I have no flair. I am functional at best. Boots, I figured, were for other people.

But Denmark and Chicago changed my mind. I started to see boots as a way to extend my skirt wardrobe into the colder weather, not to mention a way to deal with inclement conditions. I walk to work and back, sometimes several times a day, and my footwear needs a certain ruggedness, a can-do spirit.

On Sunday afternoon I took Cady Gray with me on some errands, and we hit the shoe store last of all. I had in mind to look over the selection of boots, and I even tried some on. Surprisingly, I felt like a boot woman all of a sudden. I didn't buy -- my weakness is endless comparison shopping -- but I acquired more confidence in my plan to become a boot wearer.

My trip to the shoe store wasn't just about boots, though. I needed a pair of dressy mules that I could wear to work, since my old reliable microfiber ones had long suffered from a bad case of sole separation. I pulled down a few, but my eye was caught by this number:



Becoming reconciled to boot-dom was having side effects. Heels were becoming acceptable, or even desirable -- despite decades of flatness. (Seriously, I haven't worn a heel above 2" since my twenties.) I didn't want another drably functional slip-on. I wanted ... style.

And I got it. I wore those shoes today, walking back and forth to the office twice, plus a turn around the east campus while Archer was in therapy. Although the shearling-lined interior is cozy and the square toe relatively unrestricting, my unused-to-heels feet suffered a bit. But I'm at the age where no one can criticize me for my choice of style over comfort. I've earned the right to decide what's more important on any given day. It's not what anyone is telling me to do -- it's what I want, and how I want to see myself.

Boots, here I come!