As you know, I am originally from the West. A place where the average daily high November-January is below freezing. Last Thanksgiving, the temp took a precipitous drop to -22. That’s right, negative 22.
So don’t bitch to me about D.C. being cold, because D.C. is tropical compared to that. But I digress.
Combine the sub zero temperatures with the fact that the in-floor heating in my parent’s house is…well…broken, and it makes for fun chilly times at Original Casa de Belle. My Father, of course, doesn’t think the house is cold. My Mother and I, on the other hand, were so cold last Xmas that we thought about starting a fire in the living room to keep warm. And we don’t even have a fireplace.
Clearly, that kind of cold will lead you do to crazy things. How crazy, you ask?
I am now the ashamed owner of these shearling-lined boots.
Upon my Father’s return from the hospital, he looked down at my feet, tapped them with a rolled up magazine and said, “Am I having a hallucination, or are you wearing Uggs?”
He then proceeded to hang his head in shame and say, “I thought I raised you better than that?”
But does owning a pair of shearling-lined boots make me a hypocrite? No, and here’s why.
1) They’re not Uggs. No money from this purchase went to those sheepskinning charlatans in Australia. I would sooner move to France and become a socialist than give those people money. But the boots are an Ugg-like knock-off from Old Navy for which, I paid $25. (Did you know real Uggs can run you up to $200? Insanity!)
2) I am still not a proponent of buying or wearing Uggs. I still think they’re freaking hideous, and I feel the shame of Benedict Arnold each time they touch my feet. But it was either shearling or frostbite.
3) The have NEVER, EVER been worn outside the cold comfort of my own home, and they never will be. I have said from the beginning that as ugly as Uggs are (and THEY ARE), they are acceptable in only one context, as house slippers.
Tis true, that the day we got up at 4:00AM to go to the hospital, I did think about wearing them outside. “Who will see you?” I said to myself.
“It’s no big deal,” the Devil on my shoulder replied. “After all, you’re in a town where pajamas are considered acceptable wedding attire, and women select a hairstyle at age 17 and wear it until they die. Surely, if there was anywhere where you could break the rules a bit, it would be here?” Then, he twisted his little mustache and winked at me.
Luckily, I realized that I was walking a fine line with my deceitfulness, and put on real shoes. Because the second those shearling boots cross the threshold of my front door, the Devil wins.
So, to recap, yes, I own an Ugg-like boot. No, the fact that they are covered in sequins does not make them pretty. They are still uglier than a one-day-old panda cub. But, when the cold forces you to spend an hour per day soaking your frozen feet in a hot bath, your moral code develops some malleability.
I believe that as long as these boots never leave the house, I am well within my original shearling edict. Feel free, to break out the pitchforks and torches in the comments.