Seriously–what’s up with all these motorcycle boots?
Or the ones that have the buckles and zippers but also open toes?
Or these, which I bought in Paris 20 years ago and have zippers, a zillion clips, and no buckles at all?
Of course I know exactly why I have five of these pairs–paradoxically, it’s because I already own the perfect pair, the ones up at the top, which I bought at Barneys during the winter of 1999-2000 for $250. They’re beautifully made and fit exactly right and strike the ideal balance between girly and punk.
Let me stop for a second to mention that I believe in impulse purchases. Over decades of shopping I’ve learned that when I try to be pragmatic–I should really own x kind of shirt and I’m going out to look for one–I usually end up with something that I never wear. But when I buy something that just jumps out at me I almost always end up with something I love. (This approach also works for houses and cars, but that’s another story.)
I fell for these boots the moment I tried them on and they have turned out to be the absolute best clothing purchase I have ever made in my life. Really. For the first eight or ten years I wore them nearly every day from October to April. I wore them in the rain and snow, walking around Paris and Prague, for dressy occasions and for messy ones, with pants and dresses, long skirts and short skirts, tights and socks, clothes I loved and stuff I wasn’t all that crazy about. And they were always perfect with everything.
Even with the minor repairs at 8 years and major ones at about 10, the $250 I originally paid for them probably turned out to be the least I’ve paid for any shoes ever. If I calculated the cost per wearing, it’d be like Barneys paid me to take them home.
Sadly, though, by year 12 the wear on the leather itself showed that I wasn’t going to be able to rejuvenate them again and I started wearing them less often in order to make them last. I bought other boots, partly to supplement them, but also in the hope of finding another perfect pair.
Obviously, I haven’t found them yet. Instead, I have three–or maybe it’s five–pairs that do the work of one and I’m still looking. Sometimes I think that instead of buying yet another pair that isn’t perfect I should take the original ones to someone who makes handmade shoes and just have them replicated.
I can’t even imagine what that would cost but I’m not going to do it. I feel like it would be cheating, so I’m just going to keep shopping.