![]() Listen: Mamamia Out Loud discuss this very unhelpful fashion study (post continues after audio.) Much like trying to squeeze into skinny jeans, I shimmied and shook my legs into the boots with a level of force generally only reserved for trying to open jars of salsa. The warning signs of impending doom were clear as soon as I tried to shove, shove being the key word, my legs into the boots. At this point another customer entered the store and the shop assistant left me and the boots alone. I’m sad to say that this is where things took a turn for the worst. These boots really are a dream I thought to myself, montages of future me looking ah-mazing flashing through my head. “They’re actually quite roomy because the back is neoprene, have a feel,” she replied handing over the boot and showing me how the fabric at the back stretched. “The legs look very small,” I said trying desperately to sound casual and calm, but actually beginning to panic internally. The only good thing to happen but probably a negative as I reflect on the whole experience was that they had my size, a 42, and that never happens.Īs the shop assistant handed over the first boot to try, alarm bells immediately started ringing. I’m having heart palpitations just writing this.ĭespite all the warning signs that trying said boots on was possibly definitely a bad idea, I persisted because fashun. Did I mention that they were pull on boots? Not a helpful zipper in sight. Well they may bring all the boys to the yard but they most definitely do not suit long, black, over the knee boots because they got stuck on my legs. My now husband, but previous annoying boy at school once unintentionally made me cry by commenting on how large my calves were, apparently they bring all the boys to the yard. As well as being large, my calves are also strong. Many a time I have convinced myself that they are in fact disproportionate to my body. I will admit that before trying said boots on, I was a tad nervous because I have rather large calves. That the experience would be marred by embarrassment and trauma, not the level of joy and new boot smugness that I had expected, not even close. Little did I know that trying these boots on would be up there in terms of embarrassment with the time my netball skirt came undone and flew off whilst umpiring in front of a lot of people. ![]() I had even made space in my wardrobe, I was committed. These boots were going to CHANGE MY LIFE and I couldn’t bloody wait. ![]() Screen shots of said boots from multiple angles filled my camera roll and I had excitedly told everyone all about them. Recently I spent far too long pining over a pair of black, over the knee boots.
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