The toe could not be too square, or too pointy, or too round.
The heel must not be too high, or too chunky, or too thin.
They needed to be neutral enough in color to maximize wearability, but definitely needed to be brown.
I didn’t want slouchy, but they needed to be comfortable.
Not too rugged, not too feminine.
Not too “cowboy,” because I already own cowboy boots.
A particular kind of tall: nearing the knee, but extending not over the knee.
I didn’t want excessive frills, buckles, or bangles.
Nothing too trendy. These boots needed to go the distance.
I wanted to take one look and fall in love.
Oh, and they needed to be within my budget.
Needless to say, I didn’t find my boots for many years. In fact, I didn’t know if I’d ever find them. At some point, I settled for a pair that made me say”meh” rather than “ooh” just to see me through a few boot seasons. However, like having a fight with a guy I never was that sold on to begin with, the day Mia managed to vomit inside one of them was Disillusionment Day. I didn’t want to spend anymore time or money on “settle” boots. I was done settling and I wanted the real thing.
This summer I found a Frye. Her name was Jane. And she fit my every criteria except the very last one. I made a snap decision: worth it. I’d heard that Fryes are to be considered investments because they last for years, and hey–I’m all about making financially sound decisions. Besides, I still had some birthday money. Happy birthday to me!
I experienced about 72 hours of yo-yo-ing between buyer’s remorse (I’m a spoiled, reckless, base being who will never amount to anything because of my weaknesses) and sheer euphoria (Wheeeeeeeee!) before finally settling into complete contentment. When one of my doubting friends was converted so far as to go out and buy a pair for herself, I knew I’d done the right thing. I haven’t regretted a single day or outfit when wearing The Boots. I don’t know how I ever lived without them, and I plan to wear them for years to come.
What’s your can’t-live-without item?