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Monday, March 04, 2013

Passing The Torch

The time has come. I have fully destroyed my favorite pair of boots. I bought them... maybe four years ago. I saw them in a magazine, looked once, looked twice, and told everyone in my family that I had to have them. A few days, two stores and a fight later (we couldn't agree on which size fit better), it was done. These boots weren't only beautiful, they were comfortable, too. I took that as my excuse to abuse them. Looking back, I've replaced the zippers at least twice. I've somehow managed to end up with holes on both soles. I've ripped the lining on both heels - and the leather everywhere else, where the foot bends.

They're simply inanimate objects I wear on my feet, I'm aware, but it's sad to cast them aside. It's like I've invested in them, you know. They're very much mine. I've worn them so many times that they fit just right. Every crease is a tell-tale sign of a repeated motion. Every rip is a testament to my unending courage and optimism - I'll wear them again just this once, I promise, and then I'll get them fixed. Right. Liar.

The good news though, is that it's only taken me a bout a year to find a suitable replacement - the nice and shiny pair of the left. They were about half the price of the original ones, so I won't demand too much - just half the life with half the damage.

I'm wearing them right now, and I swear they feel just like torture devices.
Yup. It's going to be a long couple of years.


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