Them Boots were made for Walking

I have been reading The Cottage Smallholder regularly for a couple of months now and absolutely adore the way its owner, Fiona, writes. Her most recent post is about boots, and reminded me of my beloved CAT boots that I bought when I was 16 and in full flush of Rocker-wannabe mode.

I bought them at a factory outlet store in Denver, Colorado and was so excited about my big black kick-me boots. Unfortunately, I grabbed a pair off the shelf and didn't realise that US size 6 is a UK size 8. So whenever I wore them I had to wear big thick socks.

I loved my Cat boots, they were of the bulky butchness that made me stride with intent everywhere I went. Not made for mincing or tripping lightly, these boots made me feel confident and that I had purpose. I wore them with jeans, I wore them with my long khaki skirt. I even wore them very happily with my ankle-length velvet dress, long black coat and spiky dog-collar. I wore them on my first date with my first boyfriend, and the new-boot smell still reminds me of taking the boots off at his house.

After a while the soles began to wear down and lose their grip, and on one occasion I had a thrilling sense of aquaplaning at the top of New Street as a layer of water formed between the smooth surfaces of boot sole and blue brick paving. I fell flat on my arse. I got back on my feet, but felt I'd lost the self-important gravitas that the all-black ensemble gave me and after that I only ever wore them on dry days.

My love of the loud thrashy music which had inspired my image faded gradually towards the summer of my A Levels, and when the autumn returned again, my boots were somehow wrong for the new wardrobe and mindset. I did not take them to poland with me, and when I came home in the spring my head was full of girly thoughts of love and I rushed to buy more feminine outfits.

I found my boots in the back of my wardrobe a couple of years ago, sad and lonely and thick with the dust of over 4 years neglect. I felt so sad to get rid of them, almost like betraying an old friend. I probably even explained to them why I didn't need them...