I take an almost perverse pride in my thriftiness.
For instance, my pants begat shorts, which begat rags, which begat even raggier rags, which begat garbage.
I come by this propensity honestly.
The whole family is adept in the ways of frugality. My mother, for instance, sewed our clothes, canned our food, made our candles, and, in memories that are only coming back to me in bits and pieces this late in life, gave me my first and last home perm.
The whole family makes do, and we’re proud of it.
Things may have gotten out of hand over here in the Land of 10,000 Frozen Lakes, however.
And I can’t bring myself to do anything about it.
Let’s talk about my boots, shall we? They’re lovely boots, they’ve served and they’ve served well. One of them once borrowed me money and never once bugged me about when I’d be able to repay it.
Warm in the winter and stored away in the summer, the boots have been good to me.
But they’re old now. I’ve had these things for a good seven, maybe eight years; and one of the boots – not the one who borrowed me the money, by the way – has developed a hole in the heel.
This is fine, as it’s way too cold to worry about puddles; and the small, flat heels are still insulating my feet.
The problem is that pebbles have somehow found their way into the holes and are acoustically heralding my approach.
Click-clickety-clickclick! Click-clickety-clickclick!
I sound like I have a set of maracas hidden in my pants.
It’s the end of an era for my old boots, but maybe it’s time to let them go and take home a new pair.
Makes me almost sad, you know?
Ol’ Left and Right, we hardly knew ye.
About Vivek Ramaswamy
12 hours ago
34 comments:
I was with you all the way through the paragraph on our mom....What? Yes, OUR mom. Geez, I wish I'd been paying closer attention! I thought she gave up on giving first and last home perms with me for the first day of Kindergarten in 1962. It must have been like childbirth for her, you know, over time she forgot the pain (she caused).
It's hard for me to believe that someone who lives in the arctic tundra would have anything but the warmest, most waterproof of boots, in the best repair. Thriftiness absolutely has it's place, but owwwwww and brrrrrrrr!
You should call the boot's maker and offer to do a commercial - 8 years, that's amazing. Thrift gone mad.
New Boots Missus, New Boots! :¬)
(It's cold here, I need Long-Johns!)
xxx
I have but one pair of boots left, well not counting the ones I wear for work, rubber, black with yellow laces- a real fashion statement... My boots are dingo, soft shank, brown, about 15 years old. just thought you would like to know
My teachers would probably pay you to send those boots to me because they like when they can hear me walking down the hall. There are a lot of quiet high heeled shoes out there, you know.
I remember doing most of the things you spoke of while growing up. I've also had boots et al for many many years. I usually get my money's worth.
My boots squwished as I walked announcing my progress.
FM boots?
Frugally maintained.
Those boots are perfectly broken in. No other boot is going to feel as comfy. Quieter, yes. But comfy?
I just hope it doesn’t look like you have a set of maracas hidden in your pants.
Wait, don't throw those puppies out!
I had the same problem this year. Get the stones out (or not!) and fill the holes with silicone!
*POOF* new, leakless boots!!
"borrowed me money"???
Must be a boot thing. I cannot wear boots anymore (not that I have a need for them down here and sans motorcycle), something about lower back pain exacerbated by the usually hard heels...
My last pair, the ones I still had after selling my last motorcycle, grew this fascinating mold while sitting in the closet for over a year.
Practically brought a tear to my eye, it did.
Maracas in the pants? Now, that sounds like party material.
Silicone?! EXCELLENT idea!!! Seriously. I'm quite excited now, actually...
Oh, and "borrowed me money". Hmmm. It's supposed to be "lended", I think. :-) Anyway, yes, it's a Minnesota thing, the "borrowed me money" kind of phrase. Sorry abut that! We also have issues around the use of the word "pop" for "soda" and I've even heard people say "itch my back, would ya? It's driving me crazy." It's something about the mix of immigrants and their use of English. Having grown up in some very small towns with some very Scandinavian accents, I will blame the Swedish for now.
I take it, then, that you're not a heel-wearer, if only now your imminent arrivals are being heralded by your shoes.
I'll bet you could squirt a little shoe goo or foam insulation in that hole and the boots would be good for another winter.
Wait...did you say you were in short pants? :)
I actually AM a heel wearer, even quite silly heels and have seven pairs of them at my desk (not including the ones I'm wearing right now), so the click of heels in the halls is nothing new. It's the clicking on some of the worst ice-clogged streets I've every seen that now make me certifiably "special". :-)
And then there are the pieces of clothing you just can't kill. In the 70's I used to wear Danksins all the time. (Do you even know what they are?) I swear, when the end of the world comes, all that's left will be Danskins and garbage bags.
I keep clothes and shoes and stuff forever too. I think I have a dress from my honeymoon (back in 1981 for goodness sakes!) in my closet. I think I keep hoping someday I'll fit in it again. LMAO!!!! Oh that thought is way too funny!!!
I used to be a Pearl. But now I'm Bizarro Pearl, as I decided a few years ago that you get what you pay for. This revelation came after decades of buying shoes at Goodwill and Payless and wondering why my shoes always sucked. Then I had these amazing winter boots--with the liners and all--except my damn feet were always freezing. So I got a pair of Sorels last year, and get this: they cost money and are awesome. So I think you'll find this change could be for the good, honey.
You make me smile, pearl. I love getting my money's worth out of things I buy.
And I admire the way you "MANipulate" your hubby-heehee.
Secretia
Save them in case you ever take a tap dancing class.
When my brother was in high school they used to get the metal pieces added to their heels so they would click when they walked. They were called blakeys. Think back to the Beatles.
Having maracas in your pants is better than having bongos in your bra.
BTW it is "loaned me money". Oh and could you?
Boots are the bomb!
I have a pair that I have had since about '85 :)
It's a sad thing that day you realize that these boots are no longer made for walkin', but now they're made for clackin'
I had to throw out my old shoes the other day. They were worn but still very comfortable. They were called upon the other day during a sewer attack (in coming from the basement). They gave it their all and sacrificed themselves for the cause. But they became infected with sewage so I had to let them go. At least they have each other and maybe they'll stay together in the landfill.
Don't boot your boots...I fear you will miss them. Sounds like you've got some good suggestions above for salvation. But, if you choose to send them to Boot Hill, imitation Uggs are a good way to go.
Frugality is admirable, but sometimes you have to buy new things.
Nothing wrong with musical boots..just THINK of the entertainment you can provide on your bus ride.
Oh,and the home perms? Yeah, you remember it alright. Like me. I am still in therapy..........
Ha! "the holes and are acoustically heralding my approach." I can hear it now. Yes, Pearl, it's time. May your boots R.I.P.
:-)
Well, Ms. Frugality, will you come down here and hang out a bit? I need a download of your stuff.
I like to announce my arrival wherever I go being a bit of a show off and needing to be noticed so all you have gone and done is give me ideas about how my footwear could announce for me.
Hooters on each heel might be a slapstick step too far?
A woman after my own heart, we also mend and make do wherever and whenever possible. Many thanks for visiting me over at Pen And Paper, nice to meet you.
There are cowbells and then there's Pearl's boots... Throwing away a good pair of jeans without them becoming cutoffs is a crime... My hiking boots are on their their soles (I, btw, am still on my first... soul)
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