Dear Winter Boots
You know how hard it’s been for me to put aside my sexy knee high stilettos in favor of your sturdy grip. It’s taken time for me to accept that, during a hardcore Canadian winter such as this, it may not always be possible to put fashion before function, as I love to do.
It took me so long to find you. In a sea of heinously unattractive snow stompers, you were by far the best of a bad bunch. Your woolly lining kept my toes snuggly warm and you even came somewhere close to being fashionable. But, after dancing on ice more than a few times in my high heels, it was your grip that made me want you so much. With you on my feet, I could once again stride with pride.
Haven’t I been good to you? That leather protector cost me a pretty penny and I doused you in it lovingly. I put you on the rack with all my other shoes, to make sure you don’t feel left out. I know those stilettos can be hard on you sometimes, but don’t listen to those skinny bitches. You’re not fat. They’re just jealous of the way you handle the streets.
And this is how you repay me?
Why is it, that despite all my love for you, when I strode out of my house this morning into a blustery snowstorm, a few strides in, you decided you didn’t want to play anymore? You gave way beneath me and I tumbled to the ground. Did you think that snow, combined with the ample puffiness of my down coat and the fleshy padding of my hips would cushion my fall? Truth be told, so did I, but you know what’s underneath snow, Winter Boots? Concrete, that’s what. And as the purpleish-brown bruise on my fleshy hip can attest, concrete ain’t no joke.
I try to remember our good times; the way I can fearlessly march through puddles, the way you laugh in the face of sub-zero temperatures and always keep my toes toasty warm, the way you make that crunch sound on a fresh snowfall.
Oh Winter Boots, I’ve never been able to hold a grudge. Look, it’s the New Year. I’m going to need your help for at least another couple of months. Why don’t we put this unfortunate incident behind us? I don’t think anyone saw me fall and that bruise will heal in time (my ego on the other hand…). What’s say we start over? If you want, tonight I’ll spray you with the leather protector – I know how you love that. But if there’s another slip up, I can’t promise that the sexy knee-high stilettos won’t be snapping at your heels.
I look forward to walking with you tomorrow.