Amidst all the Angels chaos that went down over the weekend, I almost
neglected to post about a new purchase that I’m shamelessly excited
about above all the vintage goodies I bought at the Angels sale. The
excitement really stems from the long quest it has been to find the
perfect pair. You may or may not have noticed that knee high boots
have never been featured here that often. Sure, I have a few pair of
cheapie vintage ones that I wear on occasion but if they were burnt
down in a fire, I wouldn’t be boo hoo-ing like some people would about
their boots (lucky them that they’ve found the perfect knee highs). I had this vision in my second year of uni that I would find boots so amazing that I’d wear them day in and day out during harsh winters and they’d become lovingly worn in and I’d pull them out every year with a cheesy grin on my face. Wishful thinking. That along with good roasted chestnuts in Central London never happened. Years went by and I’ve long given up the thought of finding these imaginary boots. I couldn’t even specify to you what exactly was I looking for, so far fetched was my vision of these perfect boots. No wonder I was never successful when I tried to hunt for them.
I’m guessing it must be like that nauseating cliche people like to say about looking for boyfriends ("One will just POP right up when you least expected!" – no you annoying optimistic person, it doesn’t bloody happen like that!). These Marios Schwab AW08 boots which were worn in the show sort of popped up at a sample sale that I didn’t expect to go to (one that I couldn’t announce on the blog alas…), where I didn’t expect to find them. They are brown which I didn’t expect to like and they have square toes which I certainly didn’t think I’d go for. But here they are on my feet (still wearing them actually…) for a semi-bargainous price of ¬£100 these catwalk one-offs adorned by Husam El Odeh (I’m assuming…?) but of course I can finally apply that cost-per-wear thingy that people bang on about to these as I’m finally going to be able to beam goofily at them each winter when I take them down from a the wicker winter box (I don’t yet have said wicker winter box but I’m damn well buying one now…).
This is a I’m-dozy-and-happy-in-my-boots expression…
