On Finally Retiring My Snow Boots

If you’re anything like me, you’ve been wearing snow boots for about three months straight by now. Mine are the classic L.L. Bean boots—sturdy, comfortable, waterproof, and with good traction—but everyone’s been wearing some variation of them in the weather we’ve been having.

At first, the boots, like the snow days, were welcome gifts. I relished in the freedom of stepping in any puddle of sloshy, melting snow, of feeling safe as I traversed the treacherous sidewalks, slick with a layer of solid ice. I only rarely skidded in these boots, my feet were always warm, and I never had to worry about ruining them in puddles.

But as the months dragged along, I began getting tired of them. They’re not very good-looking, my feet roasted in class, and I lived with the constant fear that I’d have to take them off in front of someone who wouldn’t be comfortable with the Beat Boot smell, like those closest to me were.*

Earlier this week, excited by the prospect of over-forty degree weather and the absence of ice on the sidewalks, I finally dusted off my leather riding boots (they were literally covered in dust from this winter). As I zipped them up, I relished in the thought that my feet wouldn’t smell after a long day, that I had created a complete outfit, that I would be comfortable sitting in class, surrounded by all of the students who had so bravely cast aside their snow boots weeks before I had.

I felt giddy as I left my Hodgdon dorm room—the sun was shining, the weather was warm, and my feet were light as a feather. I was ready for a new day, a new season, a new me.

I slipped on black ice about 15 feet down the sidewalk from my dorm. A few people were watching. I wore my snow boots again the next day.

 

 

 

*My friends really weren’t comfortable with the smell. They wouldn’t let me take off the boots in their rooms.

 

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