Yesterday, my boots and computer arrived.
(Actually, they technically arrived on Monday, but I missed the delivery because neither of them were being updated properly on their trackers.)
Unfortunately, I cannot plug the computer into the boots, because they are boots, not a monitor.
I was feeling a bit silly about it.
Today, I put the boots on properly. As in, I dressed to match them with the intent of leaving the house.
I had no idea how they looked, because we don’t have a full-length mirror, but I felt a little odd.
When I decided that “this winter I will have boots, damn it”, I wanted something calf-height and flat that I could wear with jeans and maybe a skirt.
What I bought was something knee-height with a three-inch heel.
These, to be precise –
See, I am not a tall person. I think around 5’4”. That’s not excessively short – in fact, it’s about the average Australian woman’s height – but heels wouldn’t be a mistake on someone my height.
I just have never been bothered by how short or tall I appear.
I grew slowly, where most other kids were having sudden spurts and shooting above me. At school, I was always a short one. I was teased good-naturedly, and I poked fun at myself, too. Because who cares? It’s height, I can’t change it.
It’s not that I don’t like high heeled shoes. It’s not that I can’t walk in them.
It’s more that one, heels to me are dressy, and I don’t have anywhere dressy to go, and two, I’m not fussed by shoes in general. For the past seven years, I’ve pretty much only worn sneakers.
Jene jokes that I’m not a proper girl, because I don’t like shoe shopping. I’m not a big fan of clothes shopping, either. I just think everything is, to use technical terminology, uggers.
Shopping with me must be painful, because after visiting every store in the area and declaring everything “gross”, I return home with nothing.
Jene, bless him, sticks with me the whole time. Most of the time. Unless there are books or XBox games nearby. Then I’m understandably on my own.
But back to this morning.
When I put them on, I felt strange. Too tall. That is how I always feel on the rare occasions that I wear a heel. Jene told me they looked good, really good, so I hoped that he was right and went out with Devin.
Driving my manual car took more concentration than usual, so I apologise to anyone who encountered my slow driving this morning. It was the boots, the boots!
When I got out of the car, I felt self-conscious. Surely, everyone was looking at me. They all knew these were my Very First Boots, and they were laughing. They were all staring at this enormous, towering 5’7” woman with the red-haired baby.
I wanted my sneakers.
But I got over it. I didn’t stand out, and, surprise! No one knew how unusual my footwear was for me.
And I really liked my boots.
They still don’t display my new computer, though.