why i can’t stop buying tall boots

And how a recent therapy session uncovered the origins of my obsession

It started in the 1970s with a pair of my Mom’s white patent leather go-go boots. As a young girl playing dress-up, these boots represented two important things to me: power and glamour.

Stepping into them, I became Wonder Woman. A Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. An Emma Sansom High School majorette. Sansom was the high school my older sisters attended at the time, and their marching band had the most beautiful majorettes. They were always front and center, wearing sparkly sequin uniforms, tiaras, and glossy white knee boots. That’s who I wanted to be.

In fourth grade, I asked for my own pair of boots. I wanted brown or burgundy ones at that time because I wanted to dress like Suzanne Somers’ iconic character “Chrissy” from the popular television show Three’s Company (pictured below).

Mom took me to every shoe store in Gadsden, Alabama (there weren’t many), but they were all sold out. She promised to order a pair from the JCPenney catalog that I would have in time for Christmas, which was just a few weeks away. But I was desperate. I wanted boots right then and there. I ended up settling for a cheap pair of boys’ cowboy boots from Payless that I though were just tall enough to pass for the boots I actually wanted.

I couldn’t wait until Monday to wear my new boots to school. I spent all day Sunday trying on clothes and putting together the perfect outfit…a striped turtleneck sweater with a brown corduroy blazer, paired with jeans that I could tuck into the boots. I was so excited about wearing them that I barely slept that night. 

The next day, I marched into class confidently. Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Were Made for Walking” played in my head. I was so happy.  A few minutes later, I was humiliated. “You’re wearing boys’ boots!” a classmate sitting next to me blurted out. Everyone started pointing and laughing at me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to melt into my desk and disappear, but I couldn’t. At recess, I untucked my jeans. And I never wore those boots again.

Later that week, I was over at a friend’s house, and I saw a pair of tall tan boots next to her garbage can. I asked why she was throwing the boots away and she said they hurt her feet. She said I could have them. The boots were way too small for me and absolute torture to walk in, but I took them anyway. And I wore them for weeks.

That Christmas, I got the pair of boots I’d wanted. They were burgundy. They were beautiful. And they fit perfectly. I put them on with the pajamas I was wearing that morning. I wore them all day, and I even wore them to bed that night. Several years later, I would once again don a pair of white patent leather knee boots when I became an Emma Sansom High School majorette. My boot story had come full circle.

I recently started doing the “To Be Magnetic” manifestation program. Part of the curriculum is doing “deep imaginings” that help you go back and mentally heal childhood wounds or trauma.  The first childhood memory to pop up for me during meditation was the utter humiliation I felt that day when all the kids were laughing at me for wearing boys’ boots. And it made total sense why – as an adult – I buy way too many pairs of boots than I can possibly wear. What started as an attempt to fill a void and erase the humiliation of my inner fourth-grader turned into a lifelong love of stylish footwear.

And yes, I’m still buying all the boots. I may not be Wonder Woman or a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, but whenever I’m strutting the streets of Manhattan in a pair of thigh-high patent-leather lovelies, I still feel powerful and glamorous.

This article originally appeared in the inaugural issue of VINTAGE fashion magazine, an editorial publication featuring items from Shop Stylaphile Vintage.

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