Showing posts with label shoe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoe. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Re-booted



After extensive research (Brian's recommendation on my post - thanks!) and careful deliberation (I'm not throwing away my boots!) I came to the conclusion that it was worth giving shoe goo a try this morning.

Shoe goo was fun to work with. According to the instructions on the package, it cleans off easily with acetone while still uncured. However, I have recently developed an obsession with nail polish so cleaning up stray clots and threads of goo while preserving my sparkly emerald green nails involved awkward maneuvering with stiff fingers.

The soles are reattached to the boots and my nails survived the process, but the timing is unfortunate and my boots won't be ready to go and play in the snow until tomorrow. I'll have to wear something else for the commute to work.

No snow day for me.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Re-boot



My first winter in New York, I was told I needed to get a pair of snow boots. Since back then I didn't like skidding over ice, I bought myself a pair.

Last Tuesday as I laced them, I thought they were starting to look a little shabby. This winter has given us so little snow that I've mostly been wearing a pair of light ankle boots. They're cute, but they give almost no support and my ankles had been complaining about it.

The snow boots, not too cute, but my ankles love them.

Around mid-morning and without warning, the sole came off. Rubber bands and gaffer tape came to the rescue so I could finish the day and make it home safely without tripping.

The boots have already provided ten years of service, but I'm reluctant to retire them. I get very attached to comfortable shoes. When we've had some good times together, I find it hard to say good-bye. There are so many ugly shoes out there and so many uncomfortable ones that when I find a pair that fits well and treats my soles with respect, I want to hold on to them and never let them go.

Sometimes it takes parts falling off for me to finally accept the inevitable.

Other times it's the look of horror on my mother's face. She suffers when she sees her daughter wearing hole-ridden shoes and her impulse is to want to take me shoe shopping.

The problem is that I don't want new shoes. Not this time. The sole came off cleanly, and the tops though weathered, still look respectable.

I'm thinking glue.