I LOVE SHOES.
I am obsessed with them. I can wax lyrical about them the whole day. I won’t. For now.
My relationship with shoes is complicated. While I subscribe to a strictly monogamous relationship IRL (you are my one and only, hubs), the same does not hold true when it comes to shoes.
When it was decided that we would move to Toronto end of last year, apart from my well-documented
rants posts of what was to come (which, in all honesty, has not turned out too bad), I did something that allowed my excitement and misery to play out all at once. I went shoe shopping. Specifically, boot shopping.
I went nuts. Didn’t help that it was sale season online. Net-a-Porter Sale? Yes! Zara? Perfect! In a matter of weeks, I acquired five pairs of boots and a pair of Nike sneakers in wool (the best!) – all gorgeous and of great value. I tried using this term incessantly to convince my husband that I was normal.
Unless you are from or have grown up in a tropical country, you may find the excitement nonsensical. Watching actors in gorgeous coats and features of knee-high boots in fashion magazines induce much winter fashion envy.
The closest I have gotten to being so heavily-shod was in a pair of Doc Martens boots during the 90s grunge period (which I soon realised was not for me. Not cool enough. Love Nirvana though.) Under the Singapore sun and humidity, clomping around in boots of any kind will not only bring about strange looks but also the ‘fetching’ scent of Eau de Stinky feet.
Closer to our move, my husband and I started googling about the weather in Toronto and what people wear. You would think I should have done this first, BEFORE buying my boots, but I was not thinking. I was drowning my sorrows through shoe therapy, remember?
Our aim was to be prepared for winter but not look like we were going hiking at Eaton Centre. We got acquainted with Sorel, LL Bean, Kodiak and Blundstone, none of which was available in Singapore. Yes, by this stage, I realised that apart from the wool Nike sneakers, I could not wear any of the boots acquired. NONE. Unless I want to slip and fall on my ass the moment I step out on the slush. Great.
Other than the 12 pairs of shoes – Boots x 5, Non-winter shoes x 6 and Nike wool sneakers x 1 – that I lugged across the continents for 18 hours, I bought a pair of Kodiak the very next day upon my arrival in Toronto. It was really more for its utility because the snow and slush were getting the better of me. My husband, for once, was all for spending the money because to deal with me fearful and frustrated of slipping was a bigger catastrophe. To me, I thought, this is it. Too many pairs of shoes in an apartment that is too small. One and done. Until the next pair came along 6 weeks later. I needed something dressier but still waterproof and can handle the elements. (Argh! I am ill-disciplined, vain and gross. I know.) The Artica knee-highs was it. It was made for walking and it was on sale. The husband was not happy. I was ecstatic. “Happy wife, happy life” – I had to tell him on repeat.
So, I now have a total of 7 pairs of boots. Worn 3. Can’t wait for better weather to come around to break out my remaining ones but it looks like a long shot. Winter came again last weekend. It’s snowy and wet all over again.
But that’s it for boots. These lucky seven, sept, 7, sette pairs have to last me through my next Fall/Winter adventure in Toronto.
Until number 8 – the luckiest number in Chinese culture – comes along 😉
Do you have an encounter of the winter shoes kind? Share it!