My boots make me feel whole

        I tend to keep it somewhat lowkey, but I am a creature of habit. I find things and methods which work for me, and I tend to stick to them, sometimes the point of absurdity or excess. Thrift and discount stores have always been my standard method of acquiring new clothes, with any brand new purchases leading me to a frankly silly amount of research and deliberation before finally settling on a pair of jeans.

Compounded with this is that I do not weather changes to my self-image very quickly or gracefully. Once I find clothing that makes me feel both comfortable and not loathe myself, I get hooked. To this day, despite broadening my closet, my most common outfit is a black t-shirt and my go-to jeans. Often times the "go-to" pair of jeans on rotation have been black as well, leading me to pretty much always look like a backstage theatre tech.

When I was ten years old, I got my hands on the GameCube version of Ocarina of Time (A story for another time). Seeing one of my favorite heroes rendered in glorious 3D for the first time, I was enamored of Link's entire deal-- roaming the countryside, solving problems, meeting cute dairy girls and carrying around anything he could need in delightfully folly-ed bottles. 

Most of all, I came to love those boots. Grass, desert, mountains, even while swimming, this little fairy boy was ready for anything, and my gut told me it was because of his boots. My evidence of which was that both in Ocarina of Time and in Super Smash Brothers: Melee, Link inspects and kicks his boots to keep them clean and secure. That's it. That was enough to get ten year old me to be convinced that the first material step on the way to heroics was a good pair of boots.

Thus, through the years, I had a habit of snagging any good pair of plain, brown, secure boots I could find from the thrift store and wearing them until the things fell off my feet. As I grew older, I tried to expand my palette a little more, but kept coming back to a pair of simple brown boots, although in my late teens and early twenties, I transitioned to getting newer, more "in" boots if I could, which helped dissuade conversation about my boots. Their inconspicuous nature was another of my qualifications for a good pair.

Despite my usage of the past tense, nothing has changed. Four and a half years ago, while out west visiting family, my father noticed the my current boots were all scuffed and falling apart, and we set out to find a new pair. After looking through rack after rack of over-designed, aggressive, or too specialized boots, my heart sung when I saw a pair which were all the things I look for: Simple in design, provide ankle support, have a softer (read: quieter) sole, eyelets which are flush with the material rather than hooked, and a shade of brown which would not look wrong with most any jean or pant colors I might wear. Perfect. I put them on that day and they became my daily shoes, no matter the weather, season, or occasion*. I'll point out that I'm not a monster, I have dress shoes for formal events and the like. Remember, for me, one of the most important elements is that they don't draw attention/spark conversation. I love empowering, practical boots which do not draw the eye.

Same boots, different vintage

And of course, the cycle repeated. Only this time, because I got the boots brand new, I could actually determine the brand and model! And thus, my RedHead Series 61 Chukka boots were restored! It's hard to describe my delight when I slipped on the new pair, but was greeted by memories of when the former pair were in similar condition. The feeling was only heightened when, after playing some softball with a few friends after work, I felt them properly break in and form to my foot and ankle. Again my boots feel like a part of me, rather than a thing I am wearing. I may not be a little fairy boy adventurer, but if I need to travel from grassland to desert, to mountains, or even a quick dip, I know my boots have my back (feet), and for that I feel genuinely contented.

There is a good chance that such a post as this one would be used by a future therapist as evidence of some kind of non-allistic tendency, but I won't speculate much further because I have some walkin' to do.