Boots

An every-other-day gym class and the tennis shoes it necessitates have made me appreciate my cowboy boots more than ever. The boots have got to be the most comfortable footwear in the world, and they look uniformly out of place with everything-- just one more reason to wear them every chance I get. Not wanting to subject my friends to a gym locker for an hour twice a week, though, I leave them at home on gym days and wear actual shoes instead. Weird shoes that have laces and arches and are better off worn without knee socks. Shoes that provide something called traction. And I hate it.
Tennis shoes are pathetic, and I miss my boots all day when I'm not wearing them. At this point a confession must be made, though: my cowboy boots are not actually...gulp...real. Not that anyone unfamiliar with western wear could ever tell, but they're not even leather. This fact is more than slightly embarrassing, and makes it difficult not to smile when fielding the rare compliment or more frequent question as to whether they have steel toes.
The boots are really just a pair of cheapies my grandparents bought for me at Kohl's when I was on my little western kick. Given that that was more than a few years ago, though, they've held up pretty well. The scuffs and dents, I argue, give them character, which is why I love them so much in the first place.
Tomorrow is another gym class, meaning another day through which I will wander with virtually no identity. Somehow even I, despite my impatience with fashion, am unwilling to attempt cowboy boots with gym shorts.