

I wore them dutifully, despite not being the best in terms of comfort until appropriately worn in. Considering that my dad had been wearing his for 20 years or more I assumed the comfort level increased considerably if you persevered for long enough. Unfortunately these kind of find-and-retrieve missions in the storage room will not be conducted until I move house again. Which doesn’t seem likely at present.

Match these with a tulle skirt, lacy stockings and a leather jacket and you’re ready to go.
I must say I am enjoying the general fashion of now somewhat as it provides the opportunity to wear something flat into town without feeling like a complete pleb. Maybe this isn’t the case if you’re still going to Courtenay Place bars – Estab and the like – and you’re so young you won’t get served at the bar unless you’re in sky-high heels. But for more relaxed atmospheres – the cool bars, I will snobbishly add – a pair of keds or flat boots over tights will do just fine.
The problem with this trend – and the reason I am tempted to haul out something I already own to partake in it – is that I can’t see it lasting. It might end up being something we’ll cringe at a couple of seasons down the track and I’m therefore reluctant to spend any money on it – tight-fisted fashionista that I am.
Just thinking about it I reminisce about begrudgingly having to walk to the end of the garden to feed the chickens (dirty things that they are) and putting on my step dad’s pull-on work boots for the trip. They were awkwardly large on my feet, but they gave me a great sense of security that anything I encountered on the way could be squished without a chance of it actually touching me. Perhaps be wary of drunk and aggressive girls this winter with clompers on their hoofs feeling the same kind of fearless over-confidence.
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