I remember one
Christmas when I was in my teens. There
had been lots of work and extra money to come in so it was a good year for my
dad financially. He and my
stepmother decided to splurge at Christmas as they had not been able to in the
past. They bought all the boys fishing
rods and some fishing lures. My brothers
were so excited they got up early the next day to go down to the creek and try
to catch some fish. It did not matter
that the creek was not stocked with fish, they just wanted to try-out casting
with the new poles.
Even though I like to fish too, I was secretly glad I did
not get a pole. What I got was a small
purse size bottle of Charlie,
which was my favorite cologne at the time.
Later, while the strewn paper and bows were being picked up and put into
a trash bag, my dad came and sat beside me on the couch. He told me that the cologne was not to be my
only gift and that I would get the opportunity to select an additional gift to
match the cost of the boys’ presents the following day when the stores
opened. Since I was too old for dolls,
he wanted me to be able to select something I really wanted. He asked if I had anything in mind I might
want.
I had been drooling over some fashionable knee-high style
boots for some time that a school mate had. I had asked my mom for boots as a
Christmas present and did not get them.
So I told my dad I wanted some boots for Christmas in either black or
white. Being a practical girl, I
specified colors that should go with any outfit I had.
The next morning, after breakfast, Dad and I headed out on
the long drive from the country to the nearest large town. Since I said I wanted boots, dad took me to a
Western store as he was thinking cowboy, not fashion. We looked around for some time to no
avail. So we went to a second boot shop
(still not a regular shoe store) and he started by asking the clerk “Do you
have any knee-high boots that zip up the side?
My daughter really wants that sort of boot.”
The sales clerk replied they had some but they were on an
after-Christmas clearance so she could not guarantee they would have my size
left. She showed us where the boxes were
to look through. Not only did they have
my size, they had one of my desired colors!
We found my Christmas boots and I was thrilled. Before we got in line to
purchase the boots, my dad noted because they were on sale I was not spending
my allotted limit. I said I did not care
as I was getting what I really wanted.
The sales clerk recommended we buy a pair of knee socks to wear inside
the boots. She showed us socks and we
picked out a pair, then went to the register.
All this shopping and driving had taken some time and it was
afternoon. Dad suggested we have lunch
before driving home. We stopped at a
Denny’s-like place and ordered. I was a
picky eater so I quickly turned to sandwiches to save time looking at the
menu. I do not remember what dad ordered
but I believe it was steak, either rib-eye or chicken-fried
as that is what he often got at restaurants.
When my order came, I must have had a strange look on my face. Dad asked me if there was something wrong
with my food. I said I had ordered a
roast beef sandwich which came with fries and I thought they brought me the wrong
thing. He noted it was called an
open-faced sandwich with au jus gravy on top to be eaten with a fork. He suggested I try it and if I did not like
it, we could order something else. I
tried it and I loved it!
The best thing about the lunch was not the food, it was all
the stuff I learned about my dad’s childhood and interests that I was not aware of
before. With desert, we were in the
restaurant for about one and a half hours.
Dad asked me about myself and school. I was a one-word answer kind-of-gal, so he really had to carry the conversation. In doing so, I found my dad was
more than a ditch-digger on a Caterpillar; he was a very interesting guy.
We drove home content and full. I was happy with the boots sitting in my
lap. I showed them to everyone when we
got home. My baby sister loved them so
much she asked if she could get some too (which she got for Christmas the next
year.)
I wore those boots almost every day, except summer break when
my mom insisted I wear sandals, for over two years. I wore them even after they begin to crack
and show much wear. The only reason I
was able to give them up was because mom bought me new ones so I would be
willing to change. As you can see,
these were not the last boots I owned.
According to mom, they were not even the first as I had faux-fur
trimmed “Beatle boots” for winter wear in elementary school. However, the Christmas pair are the boots I remember best
and they are what truly started my romance with fashion
boots and footwear. Yes, I am a shoe-aholic!
