Knee High Black Boots
What is my fascination with them? Why do I feel as if I could conquer the world when wearing them? Is it because I always gets looks? Is it the bad girl attitude associated with them? Am I pretending to be “pretty woman”? (Yes, I am aware hers were thigh-high.)
I’ll admit it. I love to “dress”. I work at being different. I disdain the norm. My actual clothing doesn’t tend to be way out, but I do tend to add the unusual or outrageous in some form. Hence, high heeled black boots.
Today is the first day this season that I’ve zipped them on. Ahhhhh. I don’t ever remember having to wait this late in the season. It’s October and we’ve not had even a hint of fall. However, there is a slight, and I need to repeat slight nip in the air and I simply could not wait. I’m told that tomorrow will be cool. The high is to be only 77 degrees. Hallelujah! Boots again.
Once I start wearing them, I am simply addicted. I have been fully dressed, walked out the door only to return and put on my boots. I love pairing them with a sleek black turtleneck. With that ensemble, any skirt works. At the end of the season, I mourn having to pack them away. Just as I begin to heal, it’s fall again.
When I veer from my path of black ones, I have exquisite pink, red suede (borrowed from Tay), black three-quarter length, and this year, brown cowboy’s (also Tay’s). Without fail I return to my beloved heeled, knee high black ones.
Did I mention that today I’m in my “conquer” mode?