One part Eastwood,
One part Astaire.
Add a dash of Bogart.
Shake, strain and enjoy.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Shoe Condoms To The Rescue



Last week was one miserable week weather-wise in NYC.  First the rain came pouring down, then it mixed with snow to create a gray sludge and finally a full on white wintry wonderland.  After sloshing home Wednesday and Thursday in a portrait of gray, I was pleasantly surprised to be hit with a sea of white when I approached the doorway of my building Friday morning.  So shocked that I immediately busted out into a spout of song with Danny Kay, Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen singing back up in my head.  SNOW, SNOW, SNOW, SNOW, SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! 

As happy as I was to actually get significant accumulation here in the city, I was at the same time upset and saddened by a recent error in judgment as I looked down at my feet.  For months I have been tracking and feigning after a pair of duck boots from L.L. Bean's new Signature line.  I discovered them online amidst some light reading, and my interest was reinforced by the recent endorsement of GQ and its terrific product shot. The official release date for the collection is not until March 15th, but much to my delight they have been slowly unveiling and releasing items for pre-sale over the last month.  

Two weeks ago, as boredom overtook me at work, I logged in to find that 100 pairs of the redesigned duck boot I had been craving were released!  Fumbling, I dislodged my credit card from the innards of my pocket.  I was practically shaking, which made typing my shipment info a chore.  In 3-5 short days, my months of waiting would be over.  In the grand scheme though, I had actually waited four water-logged years of wet-footed misery for this day.  Why I had procrastinated for all that time to buy such an essential city dwelling item still baffles me.  Sloshy subway entrances, random invisible puddles and moat-like street corners all were constant reminders to invest in footwear but I never did.   No more - those days would soon be behind me. Not only would I soon have proper rain/snow shoes, but incredibly rugged and classic ones to boot (pun intended).

Yahtzee!  Two Fridays ago they arrived -better than I had expected.  The waxed canvas uppers gave them an unmatched differentiation to the classic Bean boot, while I could almost feel the gum soles gripping the slippery ground that would eventually be beneath them.  They were stylish, cool and seemingly impenetrable... and I was one of 100 people world-wide that could call myself an owner.  For once, I was the elite... even in my own head.  In my bout of elation over their arrival, I hurriedly tried them on and convinced myself they fit perfect.  I checked the weather: 10 day forecast - rain and/or snow for the latter half of the following week.  SCORE!... I had never been so happy to see such shitty weather headed my way.  The following Tuesday arrived with rain punching at my ceiling and I jumped out of bed, knowing full well that the boots were part of that days wears... and that's where this story turns tragic.  I threw on my thickest socks and booted up.  My feet started swimming as I walk to the kitchen... these things are MASSIVE.  So much so that I look like I am navigating foot canoes... my body rocking back and forth like a drunk toddler. "You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed.  Running late, I booted down and turn back to my trusty shoe condoms and a pair of oil tanned leather cap-toes and bolted out the door.  

Most of the day I was thinking, "this is all in my head, I was in a rush... they're fine".  I get home.  Still too big.  "Ok, fine.  Even though I have always worn a 10 in boots, I made a mistake.  I'll send them back and get 9s", I thought.  "I'm planning to have these forever so I want the right size."
  
"Thank you for calling L.L. Bean.  This is Trish, how can I help you".  

I've always tried to be incredibly nice to customer service people.  I know its not their fault and that they really don't care about my satisfaction... I wouldn't if I were them.  It's their job so I try to make it as pleasant as possible.  Little did I know sweet Trish would become my harbinger of doom by the end of our phone conversation.

"Sure, no problem sir, you can just send them back and we'll get you those 9s right away.  Can you give me the item number and I'll look up our stock?"

"Trish - you can have anything you want, I'll airmail you my first born (if I had one) if you can get me my boots by weeks end!" I thought.  I give her the number and she forcefully taps away at her keyboard. 

"Ohhh no" she says calmly. 

"Trish, I don't like the sound of that - what?  What is it?"

"Well, these are backordered until April 26th"

"WHAT!!!!" "Trish, you're kidding me right? You're joking?  Trish... aww Trish, say it isn't so."

she giggles sensing that I am half-kidding, "I'm sorry sir, we will ship them out and notify you as soon as they become available."

Sigh. "Ok, Thank you Trish... have a nice evening."

My head sank like Charlie Brown.  This is what I get for being overly excited about material possessions.

All week there continued to be various forms of precipitation that would have necessitated those boots... those boots that sit idly on my bedroom floor... staring at me... hollow and alone... and dry.  They don't deserve this.

The remainder of the week was spent back in the shoe condoms.  Tried and true.  Always protective of my brogues over the past 2 years - I shouldn't complain.  But they are no duck boot.  To make matters worse, now all I see are duck boots... laughing at me from a street corner,  taunting me on a subway car, smirking at me from across a restaurant.  Their tiny ridged soles winking at me and my lack of proper, stylish, weather appropriate footwear.  Smug bastards.  But just you wait... come late April, I will have the last laugh.

...ohh and I'm about as impatient as they come so I ordered a moc version to hold me over. What, don't roll your eyes!? I need a summer pair, right?




For all your re-styled classic rugged gear, check out L.L. Bean Signature.  Pics below of my yet-to-be returned boots:















How cool is the "tissue paper" that the boots come wrapped in?  


For fashionable shoe condoms, I really dig Swims... but am unwilling to pay the outlandish $130 a pair for 2 pieces of rubber meant to get dirty and wet:

Photo: swims.com


Mine are Totes, and cost about $25:



Lastly, in an odd way I find nothing sexier than women in tall Hunter Wellington boots.  Women donning these are the sun tearing through the clouds during my rainy NY days... don't judge me:

Photo: hunter-boot.com

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