My Most Favorite Shoes

I had to share this great article Dr. Martens Article I just read from the NYT Magazine because it conjures up such good memories for me. God, I can't even begin to explain how much I loved Dr. Martens back in the day. The Nineties were AMAZING. The music. My So-Called Life. Bill Clinton. No REAL responsibility yet. Dr. Martens! You know, sometimes being a kid has its perks.

Of course there was the time when I thought my life was over. My parents, younger sister, and I moved from Georgia north to Illinois in the middle of my freshman year of high school, and a month or so before my 15th birthday. Let's just say, I took the move hard. Though I never saw a therapist, I'm pretty sure I could've been diagnosed as clinically depressed. It sucked. But the purpose of this post is not to vent my teenage woes; rather it's to share that in the center of our new town was a store that specialized in Dr. Martens (pretty much my mecca at that point in life other than the 5 story Dr. Martens flagship store in Covent Garden in London which, like the small store in Geneva, no longer exists. Le sigh). For my birthday that year I really, really wanted this specific pair of Docs. They were rusty, orangey wingtips and while they may not have looked it, were uber comfy. Because he felt somewhat guilty and bad about uprooting my sister and I, my Dad fulfilled my wish and bought me the (overpriced) shoes. I wore those things out. I wore them EVERYWHERE not really caring if they went with the rest of the ensemble or not. I mean, I wore those soles out to the point that when my parents moved to Cape Cod 7 years later, my mom gladly took it upon herself and threw those puppies out -- probably a moment of pure satisfaction for her because she hated those thick soled British-made shoes. But God. I loved them.

Those wingtips were not my only pair of Docs. I had boots and sandals which I also wore to the point of death -- I trekked all over Europe in one pair of Doc sandals and never got a blister. But those rusty orange wingtips are very dear to my heart and I'll remember them fondly. The above picture is the closest thing, syle-wise, I could find. But the color's way wrong. If you knew me back in the day, you know the footwear to which I'm referring, and I'm sure you loved them almost as much as I :)