I bought some boots last year. Some knee boots. I haven't had knee boots since the 70's when Jamie Sommers made them de rigueur for the fashionable Bionic Woman wanna-be.
But boots are badass. And these boots were WICKED badass. They made me feel...amazing. Powerful. Sexy. Plus they were warm- no small bonus for a New Hampshire winter. Warm AND sexy. What're the odds?
So I wore the boots a lot and I got a lot of compliments of the "Oh look at your cute boots! Where did you get them?" variety, but the real power of the boots didn't become apparent until I boarded a Delta flight bound for New Jersey.
It was one of those out-and-back trips that everyone hates. A "fly down, have a meeting, and fly back all in one day because we're too cheap to spring for a room" trip. I needed the meeting to go well and so I called upon The Boots. I paired them with an appropriately conservative skirt, a little sweater set. I even broke out my pseudo-pearls.
On the flight home, feet aching and exhausted, I reached down to unzip my boots. That was the moment when I realized their hidden super power. My boots are the footwear equivalent of Spanish Fly.
The man next to me- who was old enough to be my father, by the way- was fixated on them. And not just on them- on me unzipping them. I swear to god, the look on his face told a story of arousal that was so plain and so intense...this random guy on the airplane was turned on by my boots. And my taking them off.
I started to write him off as a run-of-the-mill perv when I realized that the two guys on the other side of the aisle were equally focused. Apparently the fact that I was exhausted and disheveled and not at my sexy best meant nothing- the boots were all that mattered.
Who knew how much guys like boots? Today, *I* know how much guys like boots. And don't think for one single moment that I won't use the Power of the Boots to bend the world to my badass whims once fall rolls around again.
